COLUMBIA  LIBRARIES  OFFSITE 

HEALTH  SCIENCES  STANDARD 


HX64098117 
R1 54.W25  Ar6        Memoir  of  Jonathan  M 


A-eMoir^o 


- 


Columbia  Uniterjsttp 

(Bitfbgr  of  ipijgatrianH  and  ^ttrgwma 


Ij&foratr?  iOtbrarg 


C""/^J 

■>/>  ;  \gi 

^*i&**l% 

M&IPSH 


— 


'  :  \  5  7 


MEMOIR 


OF 


JONATHAN  MASON  WARREN,  M.D. 


BY 


HOWARD  PAYSON  ARNOLD. 


$rmteU  fot  ^rfbate  Bfstrfimtfon. 


BOSTON: 
1886. 


SEnttersttg  Press: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge. 


La  mddecine  est  en  effet  le  plus  beau  de  tous  les  arts,  puisque 
la  sante  est  le  plus  grand  des  biens  corporels,  mais  c'est  a  la  con- 
dition que  la  medecine  soit  exercee  honorablement  et  que  le 
medecin  soit  orne  de  toutes  les  qualites  de  l'esprit  et  du  cceur : 
la  medecine  est  un  veritable  sacerdoce;  c'est  de  plus  une  science 
qui  touche  a  toutes  les  autres  sciences;  elle  exige  done  impe- 
rieusement  et  la  culture  intellectuelle  la  plus  etendue  et  les  plus 
nobles  sentiments.  —  Dakembekg. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2010  with  funding  from 

Open  Knowledge  Commons 


http://www.archive.org/details/memoirofjonathanOOarno 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Page 
Birth,  Parentage,  and  Education.  —  The  Latin  Grammar 

School  under  Master  Gould.  —  Entrance  at   Harvard 

College 1-19 

CHAPTER   II. 

Youthful  Characteristics  and  Attachments.  —  Loss  of 
Health 20-36 

CHAPTER  III. 

Cuba.  —  Newport.  —  Professional  Studies.  —  Graduation 
at  the  Medical  School 37-49 

CHAPTER   IV. 

European  Travels  and  Studies.  —  The  Cholera.  —  Life  in 
London  and  Paris 50-72 

CHAPTER  V. 

Paris  and  the  Quartier  Latin.  —  The  Students  and  their 
Professors 73-91 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Lights  of  the  Surgical  Profession  in  Paris  half  a  Cen- 
tury ago 92-110 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Life  in  Paris.  —  Americans  in  Europe.  —  Paternal  Let- 
ters and  Advice.  —  Parisian  Sundays.  —  Le  Restaurant 
Flicoteau.  —  Les  Trois  Freres  Provencaux     .     .     .      111-130 


VI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

Page 
Professional   Loyalty.  —  Operatic   and   other   Splendors. 

—  Friends   from    Home. — Paternal  Commissions. — Mr. 
Samuel  Welles 131-148 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Lafayette.  —  Rajah  Rammohun  Roy.  —  The  Carnival  of 
1833  and  other  diversions.  —  correspondence.  —  profes- 
SIONAL Pursuits. — Journey  to  Switzerland  and  Italy  149-165 

CHAPTER  X. 

Second  Year  abroad.  —  Surgical  Studies.  —  Miniature. — 
Dress.  —  Barricades.  —  The  Rhine.  —  Holland  and  Bel- 
gium. —  London.  —  Attentions  of  the  Faculty  and  Others. 

—  Operations.  —  Hospitals 166-188 

CHAPTER   XI. 

Future  Plans.  —  Journey  to  Dublin.  —  Edinburgh  and  the 
British  Association.  —  Return  to  London  and  Paris.  — 
Letters  from  Paris.  —  Return  to  America  ....     189-210 

CHAPTER   XII. 

Professional  Outlook. — The  Boston  of  1835. — Advent 
in  Society.  —  Personal  Traits.  —  Takes  Charge  of  his 
Father's  Practice.  —  Surgical  Conditions  at  this  Pe- 
riod          211-224 

CHAPTER   XIII. 

Marriage  and  Domestic  Establishment.  —  Second  Tour 
abroad.  —  Uncertain  Health.  —  Discovery  of  Ether  as 
an  Anaesthetic. — First  Operation  in  Public. — Disaster 
at  Norwalk.  —  Last  Hours  of  Daniel  Webster  .     .     225-240 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

Third  Tour  in  Europe.  —  Dr.  Richard  Warren.  —  Failing 
Health.  —  Again  crosses  the  Ocean.  —  Death  of  Dr. 
John  C.  Warren  and  his  last  Message.  —  Return  to 
Practice 241-251 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Page 
Increasing  Illness.  —  Address  to  the  Massachusetts  Med- 
ical   Society.  —  "  Surgical    Observations."  —  Growing 
"Weakness.  —  Ceaseless   Activity.  —  Last  Visit    to    the 
Hospital.  —  Gradual  Approach  of  Death   ....     252-263 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Connection  with  various  Societies.  —  Tributes  op  Respect. 
—  Resolutions  op  the  Physicians  and  Surgeons  of  the 
Massachusetts  General  Hospital.  —  Letter  from  Dr. 
Henry  I.  Bowditch 264-271 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

Dr.  Warren's  Characteristic  Traits.  —  His  High  Ideal.  — 
Professional  Relations.  —  Peculiar  Merits  both  as  Sur- 
geon and  Physician.  —  At  the  Hospital.  —  Treatment  of 
his  Patients  and  their  Attachment  to  him.  —  Tender- 
ness of  Heart 272-286 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Dr.  Warren's  Youthful  Sympathies.  —  His  Children.  — 
"  Mount  Warren."  —  An  Ideal  Home. — His  Sense  of 
Humor  and  Descriptive  Powers.  —  Drolleries  of  Pa- 
tients. —  An  Admirable  Story-teller.  —  The  Thursday 
Evening  Club.  —  Resemblance  to  Dr.  John  Warren   287-303 


APPENDIX  A 305-310 

B    311-316 

INDEX 319-329 


MEMOIR. 


CHAPTER  I. 

BIRTH,  PARENTAGE,  AND  EDUCATION. THE  LATIN  GRAM- 
MAR SCHOOL  UNDER  MASTER  GOULD.  —  ENTRANCE  AT 
HARVARD    COLLEGE. 

Jonathan  Mason  Warren  was  born  in  Boston  on  the 
5th  of  February,  a.  d.  1811,  at  the  house,  No.  2  Park 
Street,  then  occupied  by  his  father,  John  Collins  Warren. 
His  mother  was  Susan  Powell  Mason,  daughter  of  Jona- 
than Mason ;  and  he  was  their  fourth  child.  So  well 
known  is  his  honorable  descent,  —  so  long  and  so  thor- 
oughly were  members  of  his  family  identified  with  the 
history  of  their  native  State  under  every  form  of  patriot- 
ism, devotion,  and  public  spirit,  —  that  it  is  hardly  neces- 
sary to  mention  that  he  was  the  grandson  of  John  Warren, 
Hospital  Surgeon  in  the  War  of  the  Revolution  and  first 
Professor  of  Anatomy  and  Surgery  in  Harvard  College, 
and  the  grand-nephew  of  General  Joseph  Warren,  who 
died  on  Bunker  Hill. 

The  early  years  of  Mason  —  for  thus  his  relatives  and 
chosen  friends  invariably  were  wont  to  call  him  —  moved 
quietly  on  under  his  father's  roof,  and  seem  to  have 
brought  forth  little  that,  so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  de- 
serves notice.  Even  those  who  knew  him  best  are  unable 
now  to  recall  any  words  of  his  which  would  have  justified 
the  inference  of  future  renown,  or  any  deed  that  suggested 
precocious  talent.  This  was  undoubtedly  due,  in  part  at 
least,  to  the  position  in  which  he  was  born  and  to  the  cir- 
cumstances which  thereafter  long  surrounded  him.     These 

l 


2  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

were  not  such  as  to  foster  prematurely  any  manliness  that 
might  have  lain  dormant  within  him.  His  boyhood  was 
remarkably  uneventful,  and  the  emergencies  that  so  often 
promptly  stimulate  the  growth  of  character  were  in  his 
case  altogether  wanting.  The  very  calm  and  comfort 
which  attended  him  prevented  those  striking  peculiarities 
that  might  have  sprung  from  a  closer  intercourse  or  a 
rougher  collision  with  the  world.  No  asj^ect  of  life, 
whether  social  or  domestic,  could  have  been  much  more 
void  of  incident  than  that  of  New  England  during  the 
early  part  of  this  century,  especially  in  such  prominent 
and  thrifty  families  as  that  of  Dr.  John  C.  Warren.  Rest- 
ing on  a  basis  of  sound  prosperity,  naturally  conservative 
and  averse  to  change,  these  were  distinguished  by  a  kind 
of  tranquil  and  dignified  well-being,  which  dwelt  apart 
in  an  atmosphere  of  its  own  and  shed  light  from  but 
few  facets.  They  were  thus  exempt  from  the  stirring 
schemes  and  aspirations,  social  and  other,  which  in  our 
day  are  begotten  by  mutual  rivalry  and  contagious  fric- 
tion from  without,  and  are  borne  in  upon  us  with  resist- 
less pressure  from  countless  sources.  The  progress  of  the 
country  in  those  days  was  comparatively  slow.  Though 
dimly  conscious  of  grand  possibilities  in  the  future,  the 
people  were  dilatory  in  bringing  their  new  forces  to  bear, 
and  while  gathering  strength  for  an  onward  movement, 
seemed,  as  it  were,  arrested  for  the  time  by  the  very 
splendor  of  the  prospect  that  lay  outspread  before  them. 
The  past  had  still  a  powerful  influence  ;  and  the  inevitable 
craving  for  peace  after  years  of  revolutionary  turbulence 
naturally  did  much  to  repress  that  radical  unrest,  that 
grasping  ambition,  which  afterwards  came  in  like  a  flood. 
Happily  nestled  in  this  tardy  and  faltering  advance,  Mason 
encountered  nothing  that  would  urge  his  abilities  rapidly 
to  the  surface,  or  increase  the  tenacity  of  their  hold. 

In  the  fall  of  1820,  when  he  had  not  yet  reached  the 
tenth  anniversary  of  his  birth,  Mason  entered  the  Latin 


THE  LATIN  GRAMMAR  SCHOOL.  6 

Grammar  School,  then  located  on  School  Street,  where 
the  Parker  House  now  stands.  He  there  became  one  of 
nearly  two  hundred  pupils  under  the  instruction  of  Benja- 
min Ap thorp  Gould,  who  was  then  at  the  height  of  his 
reputation  as  the  most  accomplished  scholar  and  the  ablest 
teacher  of  his  country,  aim  who  was  thoroughly  well  fitted 
by  taste  and  culture,  no  less  than  by  natural  talent,  to  ex- 
cite respect  for  classical  lore  in  the  minds  of  all  intrusted 
to  his  care.  This  object  he  sought  to  attain,  not  so  much 
by  the.  use  of  corporeal  means,  the  ferulce  tristes,  sceptra 
pcedagorum,  as  by  the  influence  of  his  steadfast  example 
and  the  contagion  of  his  own  enthusiasm.  The  famous 
head  of  a  now  famous  institution,  Master  Gould  had  filled 
this  position  since  the  spring  of  1814.  Having  entered 
Harvard  at  the  mature  age  of  twenty-three,  after  the  con- 
quest of  obstacles  that  would  have  daunted  many  a  less 
resolute  nature,  he  had  applied  himself  to  the  ancient  au- 
thors with  all  his  energies.  Every  sympathy  of  his  being 
had  lain  in  that  direction  from  the  beginning.  Even  long 
before  the  close  of  his  college  course  he  had  become  so  dis- 
tinguished for  scholarly  acquirements  that  soon  after  he 
became  a  senior  he  was  earnestly  solicited  by  the  town 
authorities  to  take  charge  of  the  Latin  School,  which  at 
that  time  had  sadly  fallen  away  from  its  old  repute,  and 
do  his  best  to  restore  its  sinking  fortunes.  Thus  urged, 
and  with  the  consent  of  the  Faculty,  who  were  wisely 
willing  to  give  him  his  degree  notwithstanding  his  pro- 
posed withdrawal,  he  accepted  the  offer.  Thus  far  he  had 
more  than  justified  the  estimate  of  his  abilities.  Under 
the  new  management  the  school  had  developed  fresh  and 
abundant  vigor,  and  its  prosperity  had  become  at  once 
assured.  No  such  success  had  been  achieved  during  all  its 
history  as  that  which  had  followed  the  policy  of  Master 
Gould;  and  the  popularity  that  naturally  accompanied  it 
he  was  now  enjoying.  Among  his  pupils  were  many  sons 
of  the  best-known  and  most  respected  Boston  families,  not 


4  JONATHAN  MASON   WARREN. 

a  few  of  whom  were  afterwards  to  figure  prominently 
both  in  public  and  in  private  life.  The  names  of  Dwight, 
Lawrence,  Bowditch,  Phillips,  Appleton,  Cabot,  Inches, 
Gray,  Perkins,  Sargent,  Gardner,  Wigglesworth,  Motley, 
Prescott,  Sumner,  Hancock,  and  numerous  others  no  less 
eminent,  which  were  then  to  be  seen  on  the  rolls  of  the 
institution,  will  serve  to  show  its  celebrity  under  Master 
Gould's  administration,  and  the  quality  of  Mason's  asso- 
ciates during  his  attendance  upon  its  teachings. 

In  all  that  related  to  the  study  of  the  classics  Mason 
could  not  have  been  more  favorably  situated.  No  similar 
academy  in  the  land  offered  such  peculiar  advantages,  or 
more  cogent  incentives  to  good  scholarship.  If  he  had 
inherited  even  a  moderate  partiality  for  the  languages 
and  literature  of  antiquity,  his  teacher  would  surely  have 
warmed  it  into  a  glowing  fire.  Master  Gould's  fitness  for 
his  office  revealed  itself  not  only  through  his  zealous  de- 
votion to  its  purposes,  but  through  his  untiring  efforts  to 
impart  a  similar  ardor  to  his  pupils.  He  had  a  deep-seated 
admiration  for  the  beauties  of  the  old  writers,  both  as  to 
style  and  matter,  while  a  certain  innate  vein  of  poetry 
enabled  him  to  appreciate  them  with  a  nice  and  correct 
discernment.  A  classical  education,  he  wrote,  "  conduced 
more  than  any  other  yet  discovered  to  refine  the  mind  of 
man,  to  imbue  him  with  a  purer  taste,  to  elevate  his 
thoughts,  to  exalt  his  hopes,  and  finally  to  render  him  a 
virtuous  and  consequently  a  useful  member  of  the  great 
family  to  which  he  belongs."  So  strong  was  his  belief  in 
the  truth  of  this  utterance,  that  it  impregnated  his  whole 
life  and  inspired  his  every  act.  He  was  endowed  with  a 
fervid  ambition,  and  regarded  success  as  a  duty.  Oppo- 
sition only  served  to  stimulate  him  to  renewed  exertions, 
and  obstacles  he  regarded  but  as  the  steps  to  higher 
things.  His  influence  was  also  greatly  increased  by  a 
sanguine  temperament,  which  led  him  to  ignore  the  possi- 
bility of  failure.     Always  seeking  new  paths  to  excellence, 


GEORGE   MANNERS.  5 

he  was  careful  to  encourage  every  form  of  merit,  in  what- 
ever class  of  society  it  might  reveal  itself.  Having  broad 
and  far-sighted  views  as  to  educational  progress,  he  was 
eminently  just  to  all.  Thoroughly  patriotic  and  scorning 
what  he  termed  "  the  supercilious  sneers  and  ill-judged 
remarks  of  foreigners,"  who  reproached  America  with  its 
want  of  learning,  he  did  all  in  his  power  to  blunt  the  sting 
of  this  reproach  by  promoting  a  literary  taste  and  advanc- 
ing a  scholarly  spirit  among  the  youth  of  his  time.  When, 
in  addition  to  all  these  qualities,  one  learns  that  he  was  a 
man  of  singular  purity  of  character,  of  commanding  pres- 
ence and  notable  courtesy  of  manner,  it  will  not  be  dif- 
ficult to  understand  the  sources  of  his  influence  and  the 
peculiar  prestige  he  conferred  upon  his  position. 

Shortly  after  Master  Gould  had  taken  charge  of  the 
Latin  School  his  energies  received  a  still  stronger  impe- 
tus from  the  arrival  of  certain  Englishmen,  whose  advent 
he  was  not  the  man  to  regard  unmoved.  The  most 
prominent  of  these  was  George  Manners,  Consul  for 
Massachusetts  and  New  Hampshire,  and  the  first  of  these 
officials  sent  to  Boston  by  British  Majesty  after  the  end 
of  the  superfluous  War  of  1812.  He  was  an  admirable 
scholar,  a  graduate  of  Eton  and  of  Oxford,  and  endowed 
with  a  peculiarly  genial  and  polished  demeanor.  Mr. 
Gould  soon  made  his  acquaintance,  and  frequently  con- 
ferred with  him  on  matters  of  mutual  and  professional 
interest.  The  glowing  accounts  he  received  of  the  system 
of  instruction  pursued  at  Eton,  Harrow,  and  other  promi- 
nent English  schools  naturally  excited  a  desire  to  raise 
his  own  to  an  equal  degree  of  efficiency,  and  he  was  not 
slow  to  take  steps  towards  this  object.  Mr.  Manners  was 
shortly  followed  by  another  of  his  countrymen,  who  came 
in  a  shape  more  defiant  and  aggravating  than  any  that 
had  yet  crossed  the  path  of  Mr.  Gould.  This  was  John 
Carlton  Fisher,  LL.D.,  also  claiming  to  be  an  Oxonian, 
who  had  been  invited  across  the  Atlantic  at  the  instance 


6  JONATHAN    MASON   WARREN. 

of  Edward  Everett  and  other  Boston  gentlemen,  for  edu-' 
cational  purposes  of  their  own.  Under  their  patronage 
he  proceeded  to  open  a  private  school,  which  was  attended 
by  Robert  C.  Winthrop,  and  several  other  sons  of  eminent 
citizens,  who  were  of  the  opinion  that  Oxford-born  Greek 
and  Latin  might  confer  a  richer,  finer,  and  more  enduring 
flavor  than  the  homely  acquirements  of  Master  Gould. 

As  to  the  scholarship  of  Dr.  Fisher,  there  seems  to 
have  been  no  doubt ;  and  his  school  was  at  first  a  success. 
Being  thrown  upon  his  own  resources,  he  saw  the  need 
of  promptly  asserting  himself  and  defining  his  position, 
while  his  enterprising  temperament  led  him  to  press  hard 
upon  his  chief  rival.  At  length  he  issued  a  challenge 
to  the  classical  lights  of  the  metropolis,  proposing  that 
they  should  compete  with  him  in  a  translation  of  Gray's 
Elegy  into  Latin  verse.  As  there  was  no  response  to 
this,  Dr.  Fisher  complacently  published  his  elegant  elabo- 
rations in  one  of  the  city  newspapers,  that  all  Boston,  and 
perhaps  a  part  of  New  England,  might  become  aware  of 
his  taste  and  learning.  Whatever  may  have  been  Master 
Gould's  reasons  for  declining  this  ordeal,  we  may  safely 
conclude  that  it  did  not  arise  from  fear  of  the  result.  In 
temperament  he  was  a  born  athlete ;  and  had  he  met  his 
rival  in  the  field,  would  undoubtedly  have  shown  himself 
equal  to  the  occasion,  and  none  the  less  that  a  public  con- 
test for  his  own  household  gods  would  naturally  have 
brought  out  the  best  that  was  in  him.  As  it  was,  he  felt 
the  stimulus  of  renewed  exertions  and  a  more  earnest 
devotion  to  his  work.1 

1  In  the  Boston  Daily  Adrertiser  of  Aug.  9,  1882,  appears  the  following  account 
of  Dr.  Fisher:  — 

"  The  origin  and  history  of  Dr.  Fisher's  school  is  remembered  by  a  still  surviving 
pupil,  and  his  account  is  thus  given:  'A  few  Boston  gentlemen,  unwilling  to  send 
their  sons  to  the  public  Latin  School,  then  under  the  management  of  Dr.  Gould 
(Master  Gould  at  that  time),  met  together  and  agreed  to  send  abroad  and  import  a 
Latin  scholar  to  teach  their  sons.  Among  these  gentlemen  were  the  following,  as 
nearly  as  can  be  remembered  at  this  time :  John  Welles  and  Samuel  P.  Gardiner, 
Esqs.,  of  Summer  Street ;  Mr.  Winthrop  and  Charles  Bradbury,  of  Hamilton  Place ; 


SCHOLASTIC  GLOEY  OF  THE  LATIN  SCHOOL.      / 

At  the  time  of  Mason's  entrance  the  Latin  School  was 
reaping  the  benefit  of  the  activity  thus  evoked.  Seated 
on  an  eminence  never  before  attained,  its  fame  excited 
the  just  pride  of  the  citizens  and  a  lively  concern  for  its 
further  progress.  Its  judicious  system  of  education  had 
already  produced  a  number  of  brilliant  scholars,  while 
others  as  full  of  promise  were  coming  forward.  Master 
Gould  left  no  means  untried  to  urge  his  pupils  on  to  their 
work,  and  to  deepen  the  interest  he  had  excited.  For 
the  success  that  crowned  his  efforts,  not  Boston  alone, 
but  the  whole  country,  has  reason  to  be  thankful,  since 
these  efforts  finally  culminated  in  the  scholastic  glory 
which  still  clings  to  the  names  of  Winthrop,  Emerson, 
Hillard,  Sumner,  Motley,  Dixwell,  and  others  of  hardly 
less  repute,  who  first  received  from  Master  Gould  the 
living  light  with  which  they  were  to  illuminate  the  length 
and  breadth  of  the  land.  This  general  thirst  for  classical 
learning  which  now  pervaded  the  community  was  quick- 
ened into  still  more  vigorous  development  by  private  aid. 

John  Richards,  an  English  gentleman ;  William  Sullivan,  of  Chestnut  Street ; 
Harrison  Gray  Otis  ;  Colonel  John  T.  Apthorp ;  Edmund  Dwight ;  Theodore  or 
George  Lyman  ;  and  we  think  the  names  of  Perkins,  Grant,  Prince,  Ritchie,  and 
a  few  others  might  be  added.  On  the  application  of  these  gentlemen,  with  the 
promise  of  a  high  salary,  an  excellent  Latin  scholar  was  sent,  in  the  person  of 
Dr.  Fisher.  He  was  an  English  dandy,  of  middle  age,  elegantly  dressed,  a  high 
liver,  fond  of  pleasure,  and  ill-calculated  for  the  service  expected  of  him.  The 
school  was  kept  in  the  vestry-room,  under  the  First  Church,  Dr.  Frothingham's,  in 
Chauncy  Place.  The  sons  of  all  these  gentlemen  were  employed  in  the  study  of 
Eton's  Latin  Grammar,  a  book  on  Chronology,  and  a  few  other  branches,  for  the 
space  of  about  two  years.  At  the  end  of  this  time  it  was  felt  that  the  tastes  and 
habits  of  the  Doctor  were  not  such  as  would  be  likely  to  lead  his  pupils  to  make 
the  best  use  of  their  time.  Notes  were  received  from  nearly  all  the  parents  suc- 
cessively, withdrawing  their  sons  from  the  school ;  and  thus  ended  this  costly  and 
unprofitable  experiment.  Most  of  the  boys  entered  the  Boston  Latin  School,  and 
there,  under  Master  Gould,  were  fitted  for  college.'" 

Whether  from  ill-luck,  neglect,  or  whatever  other  source,  if  the  facts  of  Dr.  Fish- 
er's career  have  been  correctly  given,  he  seems  to  have  been  in  some  respects  sadly 
ignored  by  his  contemporaries,  and  has  already  become  more  or  less  mythical  in 
consequence.  After  considerable  research  no  evidence  can  be  discovered  that  he 
ever  was  at  Oxford,  or  that  he  had  any  right  to  the  degree  of  LL.D.,  nor  does  his 
name  appear  in  the  Boston  Directory  during  the  period  of  his  stay  in  that  city, 
nor  can  any  notice  or  advertisement  of  his  school  be  found  in  the  papers  of  that 
day.     Stat  nominis  umbra. 


8  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

In  the   spring   of  1820  "a  few  gentlemen  interested  in 
the  cause  of  classical  literature,  and  in  the  Latin  School 
particularly,"  raised    a   fund  of  $110  annually  for  five 
years,  "  to  be  expended  in  prizes  for  the  best  perform- 
ances in  prose  and  poetry  in  the  Latin  and  Greek  lan- 
guages, and  in  such  other  rewards  for  excellence  as  may 
be  thought  best  calculated  to  stimulate  the  pupils  to  exer- 
tion, and  to  keep  alive  a  spirit  of  emulation  and  literary 
ardor   through   the  various   departments    of   the    public 
Latin  School  in  the  town  of  Boston."     This  experiment 
worked  well ;    and  the  ensuing  five  years  witnessed  the 
birth  of  many  productions  in  ancient  garb  which  were 
most  creditable  to  their  authors.     The   successful  com- 
petitors were  doubly  blessed  ;  for  not  only  did  they  secure 
a  handsome  award,  but  private  liberality  furnished  the 
means  for  their  preservation  in  an  enduring  form,  and 
they  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  their  efforts  printed 
in  "  The  Prize  Book  of  the  Publick  Latin  School  in  Bos- 
ton," of  which  Mr.  Gould  was,  naturally,  the   editor,  and 
to  which  he  often  contributed.     In  this  way  the  fame 
of  the   school  extended  even  beyond  the  Atlantic,  and 
the   first-prize  Latin  Poem  for  1821  became   known   in 
England.     "  Proserpina  Rapta,  auctore  Benjamine  Brig- 
ham,"  doubtless  to  the  great  surprise  and  delight  of  the 
writer,  was  republished  in  the  London  "  Classical  Journal " 
for  that  year  verbatim  et  literatim,  though  it  extended  to 
seventy-six  lines.     The  editor  of  that  publication  "  hailed 
with  pleasure  the  improvement  making  in  the  American 
colleges  in  classical  knowledge,  in  the  liter cb  humaniores" 
and  added  some  words  of  praise  which,  though  not  posi- 
tively intoxicating,  were  yet  highly  palatable  to  those  who 
considered  the  fountain  from  which  they  flowed.1 

1  In  view  of  the  fame  afterwards  achieved  by  the  recipients,  it  is  worthy  of  notice 
that  during  the  last  year  in  which  these  prizes  were  distributed,  a.  d.  1824,  three 
were  awarded  to  George  S.  Hillard,  and  two  to  Charles  Sumner.  At  the  time  of 
the  demolition  of  the  Latin  School  building  in  1850,  to  make  way  for  Horticultural 
Hall,  Mr.  Hillard  availed  himself  of  the  occasion  to  portray  the  lasting  and  magic 


PROMINENCE    OF   THE    MEMORY.  9 

In  Master  Gould's  day  the  memory  played  an  impor- 
tant part  as  a  means  of  education,  and  the  effects  thereof 
were  admirably  designed  to  impress  all  who  observed 
them.  It  was  his  conviction  that  the  pupils'  minds 
should  be  "  stored  with  fine  sentiments  and  beautiful 
diction,"  as  he  expressed  it,  ee  selected  from  the  noblest 
writers  whom  the  world  ever  produced.  Honor,  spirit, 
liberality,  will  be  acquired  by  committing  to  memory  the 
thoughts  and  words  of  fine  writers,  of  heroes  and  of 
worthies  who  eminently  shone  in  every  species  of  excel- 
lence." Thus  urged,  his  boys  learned  hundreds  of  lines 
from  Horace,  Virgil,  Juvenal,  and  even  Homer,  which 
were  always  ready  to  glide  with  nimble  fluency  from 
their  tongues.  "  Capping  verses  "  was  daily  practised  by 
the  older  pupils,  who  left  their  seats  at  the  close  of  the 
session  with  the  melodious  measures  of  ancient  poesy 
on  their  lips.  At  times  came  distinguished  strangers, 
attracted  by  the  renown  of  the  institution.  They  were 
welcomed  in  the  language  of  ancient  Rome.  Often  it 
was  visited  by  Admiral  Sir  Isaac  Coffin,  who,  though  in 
the  British  navy,  had  been  a  Boston  boy,  had  received 
his  education  at  its  schools,  and  still  retained  a  warm 
affection  for  his  early  home.  On  one  occasion,  while  he 
was  passing  out,  the  side  benches  fired  salutes  of  verses 
in  his  honor,  boy  after  boy  "  capping "  them  with  great 
volubility.  As  the  Admiral  reached  the  door  the  final 
"  s  "  of  the  line  they  were  then  repeating  was  borne  to 

influences  of  the  old  institution  in  an  appreciative  essay.  To  Master  Gould  he 
offered  a  grateful  tribute :  "  The  gentleman  who  was  at  the  head  of  the  school 
in  my  day  is  still  living  among  us.  For  this  reason  I  cannot  speak  of  him  as 
I  would,  or  express  the  extent  of  our  obligations  to  him.  Far  distant  may  the 
day  be  when  we  shall  be  permitted  to  utter  his  eulogy ;  but  his  own  works  are 
daily  praising  him  in  the  gates,  and  the  character  of  the  pupils  whom  he  has 
trained  is  covering  his  name  with  silent  benedictions."  From  Mr.  Hillard's 
account  of  the  edifice  itself,  the  pupils  must  have  labored  under  many  discomforts : 
"  Certainly  there  were  no  intrinsic  charms  in  the  building  to  commend  it  to  the 
affectionate  remembrance  of  the  boys.  There  never  was  anything  more  bare, 
more  tasteless,  more  uncouth.  The  walls  were  the  blankest,  the  seats  the  hardest, 
the  desks  the  most  inconvenient,  that  could  be  imagined." — The  Boston  Book,  1850. 


10  JONATHAN    MASON   WARREN. 

his  ear.  Turning  with  a  sudden  and  happy  instinct,  he 
pronounced  in  ringing  tones  the  familiar  opening  of  Vir- 
gil's noble  and  famous  fourth  Eclogue,  — 

"  Sicelides  Musse,  paulo  majora  canainus!  " 

and  then,  profoundly  bowing,  took  his  departure,  followed 
by  a  unanimous  burst  of  applause  from  the  scholars. 

During  Mason  Warren's  boyhood  the  semi-annual  ex- 
aminations—  or  "visitations,"  as  they  were  styled  —  of 
the  public  schools  were  prominent  events,  and  aroused  a 
general  and  lively  interest  among  the  citizens.  Especially 
was  this  true  of  those  held  in  the  month  of  August  at  the 
close  of  the  school  year,  for  which  the  teachers  made 
great  preparations  and  excited  corresponding  hopes. 
That  of  the  Latin  School  naturally  took  the  lead  in  the 
popular  regard,  and,  as  the  bright  particular  star,  was 
reserved  for  the  last.  At  this  grand  ceremonial  Master 
Gould  presided  —  one  might  more  properly  say,  predomi- 
nated —  with  much  pomp,  and  availed  himself  of  the  op- 
portunity to  magnify  his  office,  to  impress  the  audience, 
and  to  feed  the  pride  and  curiosity  of  his  friends  and 
patrons  with  the  achievements  of  the  past  twelvemonth. 
The  memory  then  blazed  with  all  its  splendor ;  and  the 
assembled  crowd  found  it  hard  to  suppress  their  admira- 
tion as  the  boys  delivered  voluminous  extracts  from  the 
Greek  and  the  Roman  poets,  —  extracts  which,  like  the 
words  of  Galgacus,  delivered  by  Sir  Walter  Scott  under 
similar  circumstances,  "  did  not  make  the  less  impression 
on  the  audience  that  few  probably  understood  one  word 
of  them."  Towards  the  end  of  the  exercises  the  medals 
and  other  trophies  were  presented  in  full  conclave ;  and 
the  lucky  recipients,  passing  from  glory  to  glory,  were 
finally  escorted  with  the  other  civic  magnates  to  Faneuil 
Hall.  Here  they  partook  of  a  sumptuous  banquet,  all 
the  more  palatable  since  they  were  not  obliged  to  make 
any  further  speeches,  either  in  the  Latin  tongue  or  any 


THE    TRIUMPHANT    MEDALLISTS.  11 

other.  Frequently  some  of  the  parts  presented  on  these 
occasions  were  composed  by  the  speakers  thereof;  for 
Master  Gould  held  that  not  only  the  learning  of  Latin 
verses,  but  the  making  of  them  as  well,  was  essential  to 
a  good  education,  and  accordingly  bestowed  upon  this 
branch  much  attention.  Thus  only,  he  declared,  could 
prosody  be  acquired,  while  the  exercise  also  "  gave  un- 
limited scope  to  invention,  and  afforded  the  finest  field  for 
the  cultivation  of  classical  taste  and  delicacy  of  percep- 
tion." This  object  he  never  ceased  to  pursue  with  energy 
so  unflagging  that  while  many  of  his  boys  distinguished 
themselves  by  the  breadth  and  accuracy  of  their  scholar- 
ship, the  great  majority  of  the  lesser  lights  were  able  to 
achieve  hexameters  and  pentameters  almost  worthy  of 
Milton  himself,  and  could  grind  out  an  appointed  task 
with  a  certain  mechanical  facility  and  correctness  which  it 
is  probable  many  native  Romans  never  quite  equalled. 

This  system,  persistently  carried  out,  led  at  last  to 
consequences  which  might  have  been  foreseen.  The 
course  followed  at  the  Latin  School  gradually  encroached 
on  that  of  Harvard  College,  and  many  of  the  graduates 
from  the  former  discovered,  after  their  entrance  at  the 
latter,  that  the  ancient  authors  assigned  to  the  freshman 
and  sophomore  classes  were  very  old  friends  indeed. 
Thus  it  befell  that  finding  themselves  for  the  most  part 
overfitted  as  to  their  Greek  and  Latin,  they  were  soon 
beguiled  into  spending  their  time  in  comparative  idleness, 
at  least  during  their  first  terms.  This  proved  so  dis- 
astrous to  their  habits  of  application  that  in  the  end  they 
were  not  seldom  outstripped  by  students  from  other  lo- 
calities less  superabundantly  prepared.  Moreover,  long 
practice  and  incessant  drilling  had  sharpened  their  wits 
to  the  utmost  keenness.  Thus  they  were  quick  to  de- 
tect even  a  slight  mistake,  and  at  a  false  quantity  many  of 
the  pupils  would  start  forward  with  nimble  alacrity  and 
rectify  it  on  the  spot.     Upon  their  trained  ears  it  fell 


12  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

like  a  discord  in  music ;  and  as  even  their  tutors  were 
sometimes  found  tripping,  they  were  driven  almost  inevi- 
tably to  the  conclusion  that  they  knew  more  than  their 
teachers.  This  made  them  pert  and  audacious,  and  they 
were  not  slow  to  illustrate  their  opinions  on  occasion 
with  some  fun  and  a  little  malice.  Their  success  did  not 
tend  to  increase  either  their  deference  or  their  docility. 
Tutor  Felton,  afterwards  famous  as  Professor  of  Greek, 
was  once  hearing  a  recitation,  when  a  discussion  arose 
between  him  and  another  instructor  as  to  a  certain 
quantity.  It  had  not  proceeded  far  when  the  matter  was 
settled  by  one  of  Master  Gould's  alumni  shouting  out  a 
line  from  Juvenal  which  covered  the  point  at  issue,  much 
to  the  vexation  of  the  high  contending  parties.  Even  the 
preliminary  examinations  in  Latin,  for  years  conducted 
by  President  Kirkland,  were  enlivened  at  intervals  by 
incidents  of  this  nature ;  and  the  impending  freshmen, 
young  as  they  were,  did  not  always  refrain  from  correct- 
ing on  the  spot,  magna  voce,  the  venerable  pedagogue, 
who  thus  suddenly  found  himself  driven  to  defend  his 
own  intrenchments  instead  of  marching  into  the  ranks  of 
the  enemy.  This  was  thought  to  be  very  forth-putting 
and  disrespectful,  though  Master  Gould  must  have  exulted 
over  it  with  much  glee  in  private. 

Despite  the  honorable  aims  of  Master  Gould  and  the 
fervid  heartiness  which  he  infused  into  his  labors,  the 
results  of  his  system  as  a  whole  were  not  all  that  was 
expected.  Though  many  notable  examples  of  scholar- 
ship were  brought  forth,  yet  the  conspicuous  part  taken 
by  the  memory  tended  in  the  majority  of  cases  to  pro- 
duce effects  rather  showy  than  lasting.  With  all  his 
admiration  for  the  literature  of  antiquity,  Mr.  Gould  often 
failed  to  impress  the  zeal  of  his  worship  with  permanent 
benefit  upon  his  pupils.  In  regard  to  the  making  of 
verses  even  he  admitted  that  the  process  was  "  so  far 
mechanical  that  the  dullest  intellect  need  not  despair  of 


DECLINE   OF   MASTER   GOULD'S    SYSTEM.  13 

attaining  to  accuracy,"  so  much  easier  is  it  to  mould  the 
outlines  of  a  beautiful  form  than  to  breathe  into  it  the 
breath  of  life.  A  conviction  of  the  defects  of  Master 
Gould's  method  at  length  began  to  dawn  upon  the  com- 
munity, and  towards  the  close  of  his  administration  a 
change  was  already  impending.  Professors  Beck  and 
Follen,  Bancroft  and  Coggswell,  had  returned  from  Eu- 
rope, fresh  from  the  teachings  of  Gottingen,  Heidelberg, 
and  other  German  universities,  and  brought  with  them  a 
great  respect  for  the  minute  and  profound  erudition  there 
prevailing.  Gradually  the  superiority  of  this  was  ac- 
knowledged ;  and  after  some  discussion  it  took  the  place 
of  the  more  pretentious  scholarship  in  favor  at  the  Latin 
School. 

During  Mason  Warren's  connection  with  the  institu- 
tion, however,  Master  Gould  not  only  held  his  own,  but 
failed  to  detect  any  falling  away  of  the  popularity  that 
had  gathered  about  him.  In  1821  Dr.  Fisher  was  con- 
strained to  close  his  doors  for  lack  of  patronage.  Retir- 
ing to  New  York,  he  became  editor  of  the  "Albion," 
having  left  his  spolia  opima  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy, 
who  slept  on  the  field  of  battle.  As  might  have  been 
foreseen,  most  of  his  pupils  passed  over  to  his  rival,  with 
such  Attic  taste  and  accomplishments  as  their  late  teacher 
had  been  able  to  confer  upon  them.  Master  Gould  now 
had  reason  to  plume  himself  on  the  fruits  of  his  superior 
pluck  and  ability,  all  the  more  from  the  consciousness 
that  they  were  well  deserved.  He  appreciated  the  force 
of  the  saying  that  nothing  succeeds  like  success.  He 
retained  his  office  till  1828,  when  he  felt  called  upon  to 
quit  his  post  for  other  occupations  quite  as  congenial, 
though  of  a  widely  different  nature.  Strange  as  it  may 
seem,  he  was  endowed  not  only  with  scholarly  sympathies 
and  unequalled  efficiency  as  a  teacher,  but  with  remark- 
able business  qualities,  as  was  clearly  proved  by  the 
fortune  he  acquired  during  the  subsequent  years  of  his 


14  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

life.  Influenced  partly  by  this  taste,  partly  by  a  sense  of 
failing  health,  and  of  consequent  aversion  to  the  confine- 
ment and  monotony  of  his  position,  he  became  a  mer- 
chant. To  the  end  of  his  connection  with  the  Latin  School 
he  was  conscientiously  devoted  to  his  work,  and  it  was 
only  at  the  last  that  one  could  detect  any  signs  of  droop- 
ing energies.  Occasionally,  when  engaged  with  one  of 
his  classes,  whose  repetition  of  well-worn  passages  had 
become  more  or  less  prosaic  and  uninteresting,  drowsi- 
ness would  supervene.  Perchance  unwittingly  influenced 
by  the  illustrious  example  cited  by  Horace,  "  Quancloque 
bonus  dormitat  Homerus,"  he  would  then  glide  entirely 
out  of  the  sphere  of  mental  activity  into  the  realms  of 
absolute  forgetfulness,  yet  —  so  strong  was  the  ruling 
passion — never  did  this  forgetfulness  become  so  complete 
but  that  at  a  false  quantity,  or  other  lapse  from  classic 
integrity,  he  would  start  at  once  from  his  slumbers  to  fix 
the  offender  with  his  reproachful  eye,  and  bring  him  to 
his  senses  with  all  the  sternness  of  wonted  authority. 

Notwithstanding  all  the  examples  of  homage  to  the  fair 
humanities  and  the  various  influences  brought  to  bear 
upon  his  ambition,  Mason  was  but  an  indifferent  scholar. 
Like  Sir  Walter  Scott  at  the  High  School  of  Edinburgh, 
he  was  "  rather  behind  the  class  in  which  he  was  placed, 
both  in  years  and  progress."  He  was,  in  fact,  at  the  time 
of  his  admission  the  youngest  pupil,  and  that  in  appear- 
ance as  well  as  in  age.  He  was  naturally  of  a  gentle  and 
retiring  disposition,  well  behaved  and  yet  full  of  exuberant 
spirits,  which  in  that  day  nothing  had  occurred  to  repress. 
He  was  averse  to  restraint,  and  fonder  of  play  than  of 
work.  His  activity  was  bodily,  rather  than  mental,  and 
did  not  urge  him  very  strongly  in  the  direction  of  Greece 
and  Rome.  It  would  have  required  a  much  more  mag- 
netic fervor  than  even  his  irrepressible  teacher  displayed, 
to  infuse  into  his  mind  a  love  for  ancient  literature.  The 
exquisite  beauty  and  noble  vigor  of  its  writers  failed  to 


DISTASTE    FOE   THE    CLASSICS.  15 

awaken  a  responsive  echo,  though  his  instructors  sought 
to  hammer  their  merits  into  him  with  repeated  strokes 
and  untiring  arm.  Perhaps  he  was  repelled  by  the  very 
incessant  repetition  and  persistency  of  their  method.  The 
genius  loci  wore  no  angelic  aspect  in  Mason's  eyes.  He 
found  it  portentous,  hard,  repulsive.  Tully  delighted  him 
not,  nor  Homer  either.  Even  the  piquant  charms  of 
Horace  palled  on  his  jaded  sense  under  the  effect  of  com- 
pulsorjT"  admiration  oft  "  full  of  force  urged  home."  At 
first  he  was  too  young  to  absorb  all  these  elegances,  and 
even  in  later  years  only  a  faint  intimation  ever  reached 
him.  The  Latin  tongue  always  seemed  to  him  rather 
more  dead  than  alive,  and  that  the  sorrows  of  Dido  should 
have  been  handed  down  to  this  age  in  long  and  monoto- 
nous hexameters,  deaconed  out,  as  it  were,  in  stilted  instal- 
ments, line  upon  line,  appeared  merely  an  added  penalty 
to  one  whose  woes  and  sins  were  revealed  through  such  a 
medium.  Even  the  elaborate  invectives  of  Cicero  against 
Catiline,  and  other  advanced  liberals  of  his  day,  lost  both 
strength  and  point  by  dint  of  endless  iteration.  He  felt 
his  own  patience  quite  as  much  abused  as  that  of  the 
patriotic  orator  and  his  senate. 

Excited  by  the  impotence  of  his  efforts  to  impart  his 
own  fervor  and  rare  enjoyment  of  the  masterpieces  of 
antiquity  to  his  pupil,  the  disappointed  instructor  was  from 
time  to  time  led  to  make  a  strong  appeal  in  their  behalf. 
"  0  Mason !  "  he  burst  forth  one  day  in  his  vexation,  when 
the  la,d  had  become  confused  in  his  struggles  to  learn  the 
complicated  parts  of  the  verb  tvtttgd,  which  lay  before  him 
in  a  shapeless  mass  like  the  fossil  remains  of  some  mega- 
therium or  other  preadamite  monster,  "  if  you  cannot 
master  the  tenses  of  a  Greek  verb,  I  fear  you  will  never 
make  your  father's  place  good,  when  you  come  to  deal 
with  the  anatomy  of  the  human  body."  Whether  any 
particular  result  ever  followed  from  this  apostrophe  does 
not  appear;   but  in  spite  of  the  ominous  misgiving  so 


16  JONATHAN   MASON   WAKKEN. 

strikingly  presented,  it  was  not  prophetic,  and  Master  Gould 
lived  to  see  that  though  Xenophon,  Virgil,  and  the  other 
beacons  of  the  past  were  very  well  in  their  way,  they  were 
not  absolutely  indispensable  to  human  progress,  and  that 
a  distaste  for  their  works  was  by  no  means  inconsistent 
with  success  in  fields  far  remote  from  their  influence. 

In  justice  to  Mason's  early  days  it  should  also  be  stated 
that  though  an  imperfect  scholar  and  showing  few  signs 
of  the  fulness  of  his  coming  development,  there  was 
ever  apparent  to  a  shrewd  observer  a  kind  of  reserve 
force,  a  quiet  consciousness  of  strength,  which  later  in  life 
expanded  into  an  earnest  purpose,  high  aims,  and  a  devo- 
tion to  his  profession  that  surmounted  every  obstacle.  He 
was  but  another  illustration  of  the  folly  of  attempting  to 
draw  from  the  vague  beginnings  of  youth  any  inference 
as  to  its  future.  One  who  knew  him  well  at  this  period 
and  now  clearly  recalls  him,  writes  :  — 

"  I  should  say  that  Mason  did  not  give  evidence  of  the  ability 
which  he  afterwards  manifested.  He  took  a  respectable  position, 
and  was  deemed  a  solid,  sensible,  manly  boy,  but  not  particu- 
larly quick.  His  thoughtfulness  and  self-restraint,  however, 
might  well  have  been  regarded  as  proofs  of  a  depth  that  was 
not  yet  sounded.  I  considered  him  a  model  of  good  manners, 
and  as  having  a  kindly  as  well  as  a  courteous  feeling  to  all; 
never,  I  should  say,  rash  in  speech,  but,  on  the  contrary,  keep- 
ing to  a  remarkable  degree  his  courage  and  self-possession." 

Mason  remained  at  the  Latin  School  till  the  end  of  the 
regular  course  of  five  years.  He  graduated  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1825,  taking  his  part — as  spectator  —  in  the 
ceremonies  that  accompanied  the  visitation  of  the  school- 
committee  on  the  24th  of  August  in  that  year.  These 
were  of  the  usual  splendor,  and  were  attended,  as  we  are 
informed,  "  by  the  City  Officers,  the  President  of  the  Uni- 
versity and  Clergy,  the  Hon.  Judge  Story  and  other  officers 
of  the  United  States,  officers  of  the  Commonwealth,  and 
by  many  foreigners  and  strangers  of  eminence."    We  also 


VISITATION   CEREMONIES.  17 

learn  that  "  the  attendance  of  the  Ladies  on  this  occasion 
exceeded  any  former  one."  After  the  examination  was 
finished,  e{  according  to  custom,  the  officers  of  the  city  gov- 
ernment and  other  gentlemen  invited,  among  whom  were 
several  distinguished  strangers,  and  the  lads  from  the  sev- 
eral schools  to  whom  the  premiums  were  awarded,  mak- 
ing in  all  four  or  five  hundred,  went  in  procession  to 
Faneuil  Hall,  and  sat  down  to  a  sumptuous  dinner  pro- 
vided by  Mr.  Smith,  at  which  the  Hon.  Mayor  of  the  city 
presided.  Soon  after  the  cloth  was  removed,  the  pupils 
paid  their  respects  to  the  committee  and  retired,  amidst 
the  plaudits  of  their  fathers  for  their  good  deportment."  1 
Though  these  splendors  were  mostly  lost  to  Mason,  — 
though  he  did  not  march  through  the  streets  with  the  five 
hundred,  and  did  not  even  look  upon  the  stately  junket- 
ing in  Faneuil  Hall ;  though  he  bore  no  trophy  whatever 
from  the  field,  and  served  merely  to  increase  the  glories 
that  clustered  round  his  chief,  —  the  fact  does  not  seem  to 

1  The  minute  accounts  of  this  event,  as  they  appeared  in  the  papers  of  the  day, 
notably  in  the  "  Columbian  Centinel "  and  the  "  Daily  Advertiser,"  may  now  be 
perused  with  peculiar  interest,  from  the  evidence  they  furnish  of  the  changes  that 
have  taken  place  during  the  last  half-century.  A  remarkable  feature  of  the  banquet 
in  Faneuil  Hall  was  the  toasts,  which  seem  then  to  have  reached  their  culmination. 
Though  now  fallen  into  comparative  neglect,  fifty  years  since  they  were  a  promi- 
nent attraction  at  all  public  festivals.  The  "  Advertiser  "  prints  more  than  a  score 
of  them,  "as  a  proof  of  the  rational  conviviality  of  the  occasion."  An  especial 
tribute  was  paid  to  — 

"  Admiral  Sir  Isaac  Coffin,  —  a  Boston  boy,  educated  at  our  Latin  School,  whom 
neither  distance  nor  absence  nor  foreign  honors  can  ever  cause  to  forget  his  school, 
his  town,  his  State,  and  his  native  land ; 

'  Dulces  reminiscitur  Argos.' " 
After  the  regular  toasts  came  many  "  volunteers,"  offered  by  Judge  Story,  Presi- 
dent Kirkland,  and  others.     Of  these,  that  from  "  Capt.  Wormeley,  of  His  Britannic 
Majesty's  Navy,"  was  facile  princeps,  covering  the  ground  completely  and  leaving 
nothing  more  to  be  said  :  — 

"  Such  an  institution  as  we  at  present  celebrate,  —  may  it  pervade  the  universe !  " 

Although  coming  from  one  of  the  Danaos,  whose  gifts  all  scholars  might  justly 
regard  with  suspicion,  this  sentiment  must  have  been  sufficiently  flattering  to  his 
hearers  to  enable  them  to  overlook  its  origin.  The  generous  hospitalities  which 
the  Captain  had  been  enjoying  had  doubtless  begun  to  work  upon  his  imagination, 
and  had  enlarged  the  scope  of  his  horizon  to  an  indefinite  extent.  The  aspirations 
he  expressed  in  behalf  of  the  school  must  have  been  perfectly  satisfactory,  even  to 
the  ambitious  aims  of  Master  Gould. 


18  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

have  caused  him  much  discontent,  and  he  was  well  pleased 
to  intrust  the  fame  of  Demosthenes  and  Cicero  to  his 
comrades. 

It  had  been  planned  from  the  outstart  that  Mason 
should  enter  Harvard  upon  the  completion  of  his  course 
at  the  Latin  School ;  but  after  some  reflection  his  parents 
decided  that  for  several  reasons  it  would  be  wiser  to 
postpone  his  application  for  admission  till  two  years  later. 
He  was  as  yet  both  young  and  small,  and,  moreover,  was 
hardly  as  well  fitted  as  he  should  be,  especially  in  the 
mathematics  and  some  other  elementary  requirements. 
Further  preparation  would  add  strength  to  his  body, 
maturity  to  his  mind,  and,  it  was  hoped,  would  also 
enable  him  to  shorten  his  college  career  by  joining  the 
sophomore  class.  In  pursuance  of  this  idea,  Mason,  on 
leaving  school,  continued  his  studies,  in  conjunction  with 
two  others  who  had  the  same  object  in  view  and  had 
been  with  him  under  Master  Gould,  —  Henry  W.  Sargent 
and  Theodore  W.  Snow.  The  new  arrangement  was 
begun  under  the  guidance  of  Mr.  William  Wells,  who, 
like  Dr.  Fisher,  had  been  born  in  England,  but,  having 
come  to  Boston  when  young,  had  fitted  for  Harvard  and 
graduated  there  in  1796,  at  the  somewhat  advanced  age 
of  twenty-three.  He  had  the  reputation  of  a  ripe  scholar 
and  an  able  teacher.  Early  in  the  present  century  he  had 
also  become  a  bookseller,  and  formed  a  partnership  with  a 
Mr.  Lilly.  For  many  years  they  kept  a  shop  on  Court 
Street,  and  achieved  a  most  creditable  position  as  pub- 
lishers, by  bringing  out  the  works  of  several  ancient 
authors.  This  connection  lasted  till  1827,  when  Mr. 
Wells  removed  to  Cambridge,  and  established  there,  in 
the  old  Ruggles  mansion,  a  school  for  young  ladies.  In 
1825  he  was  taking  such  private  pupils  as  offered  them- 
selves at  his  house  on  Summer  Street,  adjoining  that  of 
Daniel  Webster,  though  he  also  was  carrying  on  a  private 
school  in  Hawley  Street,  behind  Trinity  Church,  at  the 


ENTRANCE  AT  HARVARD.  19 

same  time.  To  his  residence  Mason  and  his  comrades 
were  accustomed  to  resort  daily,  from  one  till  two,  and 
also  between  seven  and  eight  in  the  evening.  Here 
they  imparted  to  Mr.  Wells  the  acquisitions  of  the  day, 
as  he  was  taking  his  tea,  and  received  such  instruction  as 
he  thought  necessary.  This  "studying  out" —  which  was 
the  expression  used  in  reference  to  those  who  were  pre- 
paring for  advanced  standing  in  college  —  was  continued 
tillJuly,  1827, when  Mason  and  his  two  associates  applied 
for  admission  at  Harvard.  He  passed  a  good  examination, 
and  was  admitted  into  the  sophomore  class  without  con- 
ditions, —  a  result  satisfactory  to  Mason  and  presumably 
surprising  to  Master  Gould,1  who  could  have  hardly  an- 
ticipated such  an  unconditional  success. 

1  Seldom  has  there  been  a  record  of  more  complete  achievement  than  that  of 
Mr.  Gould.  Rarely  has  a  life  been  more  symmetrically  rounded  out  to  the  end. 
Its  close  was  as  the  sunset  of  a  peaceful  day ;  and  the  honor,  love,  obedience, 
troops  of  friends  that  gathered  about  him  revealed  the  copious  ripeness  of  its  fruits. 
Happy  in  his  past  and  in  his  present,  he  was  also  happy  in  the  vigorous  promise  of 
him  who  bore  his  name,  and  who  was  destined  to  illustrate  with  peculiar  signifi- 
cance and  success  the  sic  itur  ad  astra  of  his  favorite  poet.  He  was  not  forgotten 
of  those  who  had  benefited  by  his  labors.  On  the  4th  of  May,  1853  (six  years 
before  his  death),  his  portrait  —  the  result  of  a  popular  subscription  —  was  added 
to  the  gallery  then  in  the  hall  of  the  Latin  School  on  Bedford  Street.  Among  the 
numerous  testimonials  then  offered  of  the  respect  and  esteem  which  a  quarter  of  a 
century  had  not  been  able  to  diminish,  Mr.  Gould  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving  the 
following  from  Hon.  Charles  Erancis  Adams,  which  is  valuable  both  from  its  source 
and  its  truth,  as  the  echo  of  the  general  voice :  — 

"  Of  all  the  teachers  of  my  youth,  and  I  had  many  from  the  circumstances  of 
my  frequent  change  of  residence,  I  recollect  no  one  as  having  been  of  any  material 
service  to  me  except  Mr.  Gould.  I  came  to  him  in  1817,  fresh  from  a  large  school 
in  England,  where  I  learned  nothing  but  habits  of  negligence.  .  .  .  Mr.  Gould  had 
the  happy  faculty  of  acting  upon  the  individual  character,  as  well  as  upon  the  gen- 
eral progress  of  his  scholars.  He  corrected  their  errors  at  the  same  time  that  he 
stimulated  their  good  purposes  with  a  degree  of  tact  which  falls  to  the  share  of  few 
instructors.  Had  I  been  steadily  with  him  I  should  have  saved  years  of  later 
labors  to  remedy  but  imperfectly  the  deficiencies  of  boyhood." 


CHAPTER  II. 

YOUTHFUL    CHARACTERISTICS    AND    ATTACHMENTS.  —  LOSS 

OF    HEALTH. 

When  Mason  left  the  Latin  School  at  the  age  of  four- 
teen, he  was  to  all  appearance  as  rugged  and  healthy  as 
any  of  his  family.  His  youthful  bloom  had  not  yet  begun 
to  struggle  with  coming  illness  and  the  cares  of  life,  and 
his  elastic  spirits  seemed  the  natural  overflow  of  a  spring 
of  exuberant  vigor,  which  flushed  his  cheeks  and  bright- 
ened his  speaking  eyes.  He  was  a  handsome  boy,  with 
a  countenance  clearly  outlined,  and  a  form  which,  though 
slight,  was  symmetrical  and  well  nourished.  Light  brown 
hair  with  a  strong  tendency  to  curl,  and  large  bright 
blue  eyes,  —  his  most  distinctive  mark,  and  at  that  period 
displaying  no  shade  of  the  melancholy  which  afterwards 
lent  them  an  added  grace,  —  enhanced  a  charm  of  feature 
and  expression  which  made  him  most  pleasing  to  the  eye 
and  a  model  of  buoyant  youth. 

It  was  perhaps  but  natural  that  Mason  should  be  the 
favorite  of  his  mother,  and  that  she  should  lavish  upon 
him  the  full  measure  of  an  affection  which  nothing  could 
exceed.  When  he  was  well,  the  endearments  of  her 
watchful  love  were  unlimited.  Was  he  ill  ?  She  nursed 
him  with  many  a  'devoted  attention  and  soft  caress,  fore- 
seeing his  slightest  want  and  gently  provident  of  every 
possible  relief.  She  summoned  her  friends  to  play  the 
music  that  he  liked  best.  From  the  rich  depths  of  her 
tenderness  she  brought  forth  stories  without  end,  which 
dilated  even  his  large  eyes  with  wonder ;    or  again,  she 


ATTACHMENT   TO    HIS   MOTHEE.  21 

soothed  the  tedious  hours  with  choice  harmonies  from 
her  cherished  poets.  At  times  she  produced  a  marvel- 
lous scrap-book,  the  work  of  her  own  hands,  crammed 
with  treasures ;  or  she  took  from  its  hiding-place  a  small 
red  trunk,  containing  her  jewelry  and  a  store  of  glitter- 
ing knick-knacks  irresistible  to  a  child.  Spreading  these 
on  the  bed,  she  brooded  over  him,  eager  to  explain  and 
anxious  to  beguile.  To  the  end  of  his  days  this  book 
and  trunk  were  inexpressibly  dear  to  her  son,  from  these 
associations.  With  a  longing  which  all  the  distractions  of 
foreign  travel  and  even  the  charms  of  Paris  itself  could 
not  efface,  he  wrote  to  his  mother  a  request  that  she 
would  send  him  the  former  as  an  invaluable  souvenir 
of  the  home  she  had  made  so  enjoyable.  This  she  did ; 
and  he  guarded  it  carefully  during  his  absence,  and 
brought  it  back  with  him  to  Boston.  It  still  bears  the 
autograph,  rich  in  meaning  to  those  who  knew  him,  "  J. 
Mason  Warren,  Paris,  1832."  The  little  coffer,  also,  he 
ever  kept  in  his  possession,  as  a  sort  of  reliquary  and 
reminder  of  happy  days.  Shortly  before  his  death  he 
confided  it  with  a  few  impressive  words  to  his  niece,  who 
he  was  well  aware  would  cherish  it  for  his  sake.  In  his 
journal  one  reads  this  entry :  — 

"  May  20,  1867.  —  Gave  to  Veronica  Dwight  the  little  red 
trunk  formerly  belonging  to  my  mother,  in  which  she  kept 
her  valuables,  and  which  I  have  had  over  thirty-six  years." 

Thus  strong  and  lasting  was  Mason's  filial  loyalty. 
While  his  mother  lived,  they  clung  to  each  other  with 
an  undying  and  ever-increasing  attachment.  She  twined 
herself  about  the  inmost  recesses  of  his  nature,  and  never 
left  that  fitting  home  which  he  gave  her  in  his  heart  of 
hearts ;  while  he  adorned  her  with  the  abundant  graces 
of  his  affection  and  the  comfort  of  his  endless  gratitude. 
When  she  had  passed  from  earth,  he  threw  himself  pros- 
trate in  his  sorrow  and  gave  full  vent  to  his  grief,  saying, 
"  There  was  nothing  she  ever  refused  me."     Her  memory, 


22  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

consecrated  by  many  a  tear,  he  regarded  as  an  inherit- 
ance richer  than  aught  earthly  could  bestow,  and  to  the 
end  he  bewailed  her  loss  as  beyond  all  solace. 

During  Mason's  first  sojourn  in  Europe  his  mother,  at 
his  request,  had  her  miniature  taken  and  sent  to  him.  It 
was  painted  on  ivory,  and  is  now  in  the  possession  of 
Mrs.  Warren.  Mile.  Lalanne,  a  Parisian  who  had  gained 
much  fame  in  Boston  by  the  finish  of  her  work  and  the 
perfection  of  her  likenesses,  was  the  artist.  From  this 
portrait  one  can  infer  another  reason  for  the  peculiar 
warmth  of  the  mother's  feeling  for  her  son,  in  the  iden- 
tity of  their  features.  He  had  her  complexion  and  her 
light  brown  curly  hair.  The  large  blue  eyes  character- 
istic of  him  were  also  hers ;  and  so  were  the  mouth,  the 
nose,  the  high  forehead,  the  general  contour  of  the  face, 
and  even  the  manner  of  carrying  the  head.  In  one  every 
outline  was  more  or  less  a  repetition  of  the  other.  As 
to  all  his  physical  attributes,  he  was  a  Mason  and  not 
a  Warren  ;  and  this,  of  course,  formed  another  tie  of 
strength  between  them,  though,  oddly  enough,  his  ex- 
pression did  not  at  all  resemble  that  of  his  mother.  Still 
less,  however,  did  he  at  any  age  recall  his  father  either  in 
look  or  lineament,  though  in  certain  respects  he  did  bear 
some  likeness  to  his  grandfather,  Dr.  John  Warren. 

That  Mason  was  adored  by  his  sisters  might  well  have 
been  inferred.  He  was  ever  their  gallant  friend  and  pro- 
tector, with  an  abiding  sense  of  duty  towards  them. 
Affectionate  and  demonstrative  by  nature,  he  was  con- 
stantly proffering  little  courtesies  most  acceptable  from 
a  brother,  and  in-  numerous  ways  displaying  a  deferential 
politeness  peculiarly  his  own.  Doubtless  he  benefited 
quite  as  much  as  they  by  the  closeness  of  this  intimacy ; 
and  to  it  may  be  safely  attributed  a  large  share  of  that 
tact,  almost  womanly  in  its  delicacy,  with  which  he  was 
even  at  that  early  age  so  amply  endowed,  and  which  is 
so   often   superior   to   mere   manly  wisdom.     From   this 


HIS    BROTHER   SULLIVAN.  23 

source  may  also  have  come  the  popularity  with  both 
sexes,  for  which  he  was  afterwards  so  noted,  and  which 
gave  him  equal  rank  either  as  friend  or  physician  with 
all  his  patients,  of  whatever  class  or  condition.1 

Mason's  regard  for  his  brother  Sullivan  was  another 
instance  of  that  family  affection  which  was  so  conspicuous 
in  his  character.  Though  slight  of  form  and  stature,  and 
nearly  two  years  younger  than  Mason,  Sullivan  was  dar- 
ing and  mischievous,  always  getting  into  scrapes  and 
always  in  need  of  a  protector.  This  was  his  normal  con- 
dition from  his  infancy.  He  favored  the  tops  of  the 
tallest  trees,  the  roofs  of  the  highest  houses  and  barns, 
the  depths  of  the  profoundest  waters.  Being  impetuous 
and  aggressive  in  disposition,  and  seldom  stopping  to 
reflect,  his  audacious  attacks  on  boys  older  than  himself 
often  provoked  prompt  retaliation.  Never  was  an  ally 
more  sorely  needed  than  by  him,  and  never  was  a  feeble 
power  better  provided  in  that  respect.  At  every  emer- 
gency Mason  was  ready  to  adopt  this  role,  and  come  for- 
ward as  defender  or  rescuer.  He  helped  his  brother 
down ;  he  helped  him  up ;  he  helped  him  out.  No  boy 
was  too  old  or  too  large  for  Mason  to  assail  in  Sullivan's 
defence,  and  thus  many  a  time  did  the  pair  succeed  in 
plucking  victory  from  the  jaws  of  defeat.  The  Frog 
Pond  was  frequently  the  scene  of  these  fraternal  sacrifices. 
This  sacred  water  was  then  a  widely  expanding  pool,  of 
ambiguous  margin  and  uncertain  bottom.  Indeed,  the 
proud  Bostonians  of  that  day,  who  regarded  it  as  the  lake 
on  the  shores  of  which  the  Common  was  situated,  thought 
it  to  be  absolutely  destitute  of  any  bottom  at  all.  It  was 
unpaved  and  without  curbstones,  while  the  accumulated 
mud  of  ages  displayed  a  tenacity  and  richness  of  which 

1  In  a  letter  from  Edinburgh,  soon  after  his  first  arrival  there,  Mason  writes : 
"  Emily's  letter  gave  me  great  pleasure.  I  am  happy  to  find  that  she  remembers 
'  those  little  attentions,'  as  she  calls  them.  I  only  wish  they  had  been  greater.  I 
often  repent  of  my  omissions  in  former  days.  My  love  to  her.  I  should  like  to 
hear  from  her  oftener." 


24  JONATHAN   MASON   WARKEN. 

these  degenerate  days  know  nothing.  The  amphibious 
animals  whose  name  it  continues  to  bear,  despite  the 
numerous  efforts  of  the  city  euphuists  to  change  it,  yet 
found  it  an  agreeable  resort,  and  the  long  summer  even- 
ings were  melodious  with  the  expression  of  their  delight. 
To  Sullivan  Warren  this  was  a  most  captivating  retreat, 
and  he  probably  knew  more  of  its  true  inwardness  than 
any  other  boy  then  living.  From  its  succulent  recesses  he 
was  often  drawn  by  his  brother,  dripping  with  unctuous 
blackness,  like  a  young  Triton  in  his  cups,  —  an  object  dis- 
tasteful and  in  a  measure  appalling,  though,  sad  to  say, 
far  from  repentant.  Yet  Mason  never  reproached  him, 
all  the  more  that  he  rather  sympathized  with  adventures 
of  this  nature,  and,  if  the  truth  were  told,  was  ever  ready 
to  take  a  leading  part,  should  one  come  in  his  way, 
though,  he  being  the  elder,  the  suggestions  of  the  adver- 
sary generally  assumed  in  his  brain  a  form  of  more 
decided  originality.  One  summer's  afternoon,  when 
there  was  plenty  of  leisure,  and  no  very  satisfactory  way 
of  using  it,  he  proposed  that  they  should  mount  to  the 
upper  story  of  their  father's  house,  and  snatch  a  little 
surreptitious  enjoyment.  Bearing  the  elements  of  suc- 
cess in  the  shape  of  a  pail  of  water  and  a  large  syringe 
from  the  surgery,  they  soon  reached  the  scene  of  action. 
It  was  a  holiday,  and  crowds  were  passing  to  and  fro. 
Filling  the  machine,  they  impelled  its  contents  skywards 
with  right  good-will,  while,  taking  care  not  to  expose 
their  sacred  persons,  they  peered  through  the  blinds  to 
watch  the  effect.  This  was  repeated,  till  several  fastidi- 
ous and  excitable  souls  on  whom  the  water  had  fallen 
knocked  at  the  Doctor's  door  to  present  their  cases  and 
inquire  the  meaning  of  this  extraordinary  phenomenon. 
Making  a  rapid  diagnosis,  Dr.  Warren  was  not  long  in 
forming  an  opinion  as  to  the  nature  of  the  complaint. 
Determined  to  strike  at  the  root  thereof,  he  seized  a  cane 
and  mounted  the  stairs.     The  ponderous  steps  of  paternal 


DEATH   OF   SULLIVAN   WARREN.  25 

vengeance,  slow  but  relentless,  were  soon  audible  to 
Mason  and  his  brother ;  and  the  speedy  retreat  that 
ensued  worked  a  complete  and  permanent  cure  of  the 
whole  evil.1 

The  numberless  good  offices  for  which  he  was  Mason's 
debtor  were  never  forgotten  by  Sullivan.  He  retained 
to  the  last  a  sense  of  his  brother's  untiring  devotion 
which  nothing  could  impair.  Ever  keenly  present  to  his 
mind,  it  outlived  long  and  repeated  separations,  the  cares 
of  life,  widely  divided  interests,  and  even  the  pangs  of 
impending  death.  Years  after  their  youth  had  been 
spent,  when  taking  his  final  farewell  of  Mason,  who  had 
exhausted  all  the  resources  of  his  art  to  save  him,  Sulli- 
van gathered  force  from  the  depths  of  his  weakness  to 
murmur  his  gratitude.     In  hardly  audible  accents,  and 

1  It  is  worthy  of  mention  that  a  similar  taste  for  practical  diversions  was 
manifested  in  early  youth  by  Sir  Astley  Cooper  ("  the  Napoleon  of  surgery,"  as 
he  was  styled  by  his  countrymen),  a  fact  of  some  interest  in  this  connection 
from  his  intimacy  with  the  Warrens.  The  acquaintance  dated  from  1799,  when 
Dr.  John  C.  Warren  first  visited  Europe  and  began  his  attendance  at  Guy's  Hos- 
pital, where  Sir  Astley,  then  Mr.  Cooper,  already  occupied  a  prominent  position. 
In  the  following  year,  when  the  latter  succeeded  his  uncle,  Mr.  William  Cooper, 
as  surgeon  and  lecturer  at  Guy's,  Dr.  Warren  became  his  first  pupil.  He  was  then 
"  a  young  man  of  the  greatest  natural  abilities,  and  almost  adored  at  the  hospi- 
tals." Though  he  was  ten  years  older  than  Dr.  Warren,  their  acquaintance 
quickly  ripened  into  a  friendship  founded  on  congenial  tastes  and  mutual 
esteem,  which  never  ceased  to  gain  steadily  in  strength  till  Sir  Astley's  death 
in  1841.  In  this  friendship  Dr.  Mason  Warren  participated,  and  Sir  Astley 
omitted  no  opportunity  to  testify  his  regard  for  the  father  through  attentions  be- 
stowed upon  the  son.  His  kindness  was  extended  even  to  the  former's  friends ; 
and  Dr.  Edward  Warren,  writing  to  Dr.  John  C.  from  London  in  1830,  says  :  "  I 
have  heard  from  all  the  Americans  who  have  seen  Sir  Astley,  that  he  is  constantly 
making  mention  of  you,  and  that  he  treats  those  who  bring  letters  from  you  with 
particular  attention."  As  to  the  youthful  exploits  of  Sir  Astley,  we  read  that 
"  he  was  the  son  of  a  clergyman  of  Yarmouth,  where  upon  one  occasion  the  church 
bells  began  to  ring  so  vehemently  as  to  alarm  the  inhabitants,  who  ran  in  great 
numbers  to  the  parsonage  to  inquire  of  the  minister  the  cause  of  such  terrific 
peals  from  the  steeple.  '  Oh  ! '  said  the  reverend  gentleman,  '  I  have  no  doubt  it 
is  all  the  work  of  that  mischievous  wag  of  mine,  Master  Astley,  and  his  hopeful 
playmate,  Tom  Goodfellow.'  Accordingly,  upon  ascending  the  steeple  it  was 
found,  as  predicted,  that  the  boys  were  busily  at  work,  full  swing,  pulling  and 
hauling  the  rope  in  fine  style,  and  amazingly  delighted  at  the  stir  and  sensation 
they  were  creating  throughout  the  town,  and  the  trouble  they  were  giving  to  the 
honest  citizens." 


26  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

they  were  almost  the  last  he  uttered,  he  whispered  :  "  It 
is  a  useless  thing  for  me  to  say,  Mason ;  but  I  thank 
you  not  only  for  what  you  have  done  for  me  now,  but 
throughout  my  whole  life."  The  mutual  affection  of 
these  brothers  nor  tongue  nor  pen  could  adequately  de- 
scribe. As  to  Mason  it  was  a  motive  power  of  his  whole 
being.     Like  that  divine  ardor  mentioned  by  the  poet,  — 

"  Quel  caldo 
Che  fa  nascere  i  fiori  e  i  frutti  santi," 

it  was  the  source  of  a  thousand  generous  acts  and  kindly 
influences.  Nothing  could  surpass  his  sorrow  and  de- 
spair when  he  became  conscious  that  their  earthly  union 
was  about  to  be  dissolved,  in  spite  of  all  the  hopes,  the 
prayers,  the  sacrifices,  the  infinite  exertions  he  had  lav- 
ished to  prolong  it.  Sullivan's  death,  which  preceded 
his  own  by  but  a  few  weeks,  had  a  most  depressing  effect 
upon  him,  and  he  was  never  the  same  again.  The  shock, 
added  to  the  disease  from  which  he  was  already  suffering, 
shattered  the  very  foundations  of  life,  and  his  sensitive 
nature  could  not  long  survive  it.  They  "were  lovely 
and  pleasant  in  their  lives,  and  in  their  death  they  were 
not  divided." 

This  unflagging  affection  for  those  nearest  to  him  may 
truly  be  called  the  chief  mainspring  of  Mason  Warren's 
career,  from  his  youngest  to  his  latest  days.  Like  a  broad 
stream,  its  swelling  flood  pervaded  and  fertilized  his  whole 
being.  It  was  ever  the  stimulus  to  fresh  exertions  and 
gentle  deeds  of  a  beneficence  most  rare.  Enlarging  his 
sympathies,  kindling  his  whole  soul  into  perfect  action, 
promoting  a  liberal  charity  towards  the  failings  of  others, 
softening  the  pains  and  hardships  of  life,  it  bestowed  both 
upon  himself  and  those  around  him  in  this  world  the  bless- 
ings so  often  withheld  till  the  next.  He  was,  in  fact,  a 
pertinent  illustration  of  the  truth  which  shrewd  wisdom 
has  revealed  for  our  learning  :  — 


CHARACTERISTIC    TRAITS.  27 

"  One  grand,  invaluable  secret  there  is,  however,  which  in- 
cludes all  the  rest,  and,  what  is  comfortable,  lies  clearly  in  every 
man's  power :  To  have  an  open  loving  heart,  and  what  follows 
from  the  possession  of  such !  Truly  it  has  been  said,  emphati- 
cally in  these  days  it  ought  to  be  repeated :  '  A  Loving  Heart  is 
the  beginning  of  all  knowledge.  This  it  is  that  opens  the  whole 
mind,  quickens  every  faculty  of  the  intellect  to  do  its  fit  work, 
that  of  knowing,  and  therefrom,  by  sure  consequence,  of  vividly 
uttering  forth.'' " 

"  The  mind  has  a  thousand  eyes, 
And  the  heart  but  one  ; 
Yet  the  light  of  a  whole  life  dies 
When  love  is  done." 

With  a  temperament  thus  affectionate  and  impressible, 
it  is  almost  superfluous  to  state  that  Mason  was  popular 
and  beloved,  not  merely  in  his  own  domestic  circle,  but 
far  beyond  it.  His  every  trait  insured  such  a  result.  To 
love  and  to  be  loved  were  to  him  the  very  essence  of  life. 
His  manners  were  winning,  nay,  irresistible,  from  his  boy- 
hood. There  was  a  genial  contagion  in  his  voice,  the 
grasp  of  his  hand,  his  look,  his  simple  presence.  He  had 
that  touch  of  Nature  which  makes  the  whole  world  kin. 
He  was  one  of  Thackeray's  boys,  "  brave  and  gentle, 
warm-hearted  and  loving,  and  looking  the  world  in  the 
face  with  kind  honest  eyes."  There  was  a  cordial  vivac- 
ity in  his  welcome  which  excited  the  deepest  springs  of 
kind  feeling.  He  charmed  his  associates  from  the  first, 
gliding  quickly  into  their  hearts  by  a  sort  of  magnetism, 
which  wrought  nimbly  upon  them  and  caused  them  to  for- 
get that  he  was  only  the  acquaintance  of  the  moment, 
revealing  him,  in  sooth,  as  the  apparent  friend  of  years, 
for  whose  return  they  had  long  been  looking.  He  was  at 
all  times  the  good  fellow  and  boon  companion,  the  laugh- 
ing humorist  tinctured  with  a  jovial  wit  that  brought  no 
satiety.  Gay  and  sprightly,  he  was  endowed  with  gentle- 
manly ways  and  a  self-respect  that  brooked  no  liberties. 
Of  exuberant  fun,  piquant  at  intervals  with  a  mild  flavor 


28  JONATHAN    MASON   WAEEEN. 

of  innocent  mischief,  he  threw  himself  with  a  graceful 
earnestness  and  the  happy  abandon  of  warm-blooded 
youth  into  everything  that  stirred  his  interest,  though  he 
never  passed  the  bounds  of  courtesy  or  the  limits  of  be- 
coming mirth.  His  impulses  were  habitually  correct,  and 
his  aspirations  such  as  might  have  been  the  creditable 
offspring  of  maturer  years.  He  was  of  perfect  veracity 
in  thought,  word  and  deed.  Singularly  sweet  of  dispo- 
sition, he  harbored  no  idea  of  ill  towards  others.  The 
atmosphere  that  surrounded  him  was  like  the  even  kindli- 
ness of  the  summer-time.  Incapable  of  malice  or  jealousy, 
he  revolted  at  anything  ignoble.  He  was  a  "  despiser  of 
sorry  persons  and  little  actions."  He  was  refined  as  to 
thought,  word,  and  speech,  while  his  moral  tone  was  high 
and  clear.  Having  a  delicate  organization,  his  act  ever 
swayed  level  with  his  instinct ;  and  conscious  of  manly 
aims,  he  never  allowed  himself,  even  when  a  boy,  to  be 
unduly  disturbed  or  provoked  to  anger.  The  myriad 
attractions  of  his  society  flowed  on  with  the  involuntary 
impulse  of  an  unfailing  fount,  and  had  a  strange  power  to 
draw  forth  that  answering  love  and  brightness  which  his 
nature  unwittingly  generated,  and  which  he  craved  with 
such  avidity  in  return. 

"  His  was  the  charm  magnetic,  the  bright  look 
That  sheds  its  sunshine." 

From  his  earliest  years  Mason  was  of  a  broad  cordial 
type,  rich  in  promise.  All  saw  in  him  that  which  they 
themselves  would  gladly  have  been.  There  was  a  certain 
healing  in  his  friendship.  He  was  a  born  optimist,  with 
unlimited  capacity  for  quaffing  joy  from  innocent  pleas- 
ures ;  an  epicurean  without  taint  of  luxury  or  sensuality. 
To  him  this  was  no  dead,  unprofitable  world,  but  radiant 
with  images  of  genuine  fruition  and  suggestions  of  truth 
and  grace.  Life  was  intense,  full  of  a  graphic  meaning. 
Merely  to  be  was  to  him  a  continual  feast.     He  felt  the 


DECLINING    HEALTH.  29 

charm  of  music,  of  flowers,  which  were  peculiarly  dear 
to  him,  and  of  every  aspect  of  beauty,  animate  or  in- 
animate. He  ate  and  drank  with  a  dainty  satisfaction 
wherein  was  nothing  gross.  The  perfect  neatness  of  his 
dress  was  leavened  with  taste,  and  in  this  respect,  as  in 
numerous  others,  the  boy  foreshadowed  the  dawning  man. 
Sparkling  with  happy  suggestions,  void  of  every  meanness, 
open,  trusting,  and  ingenuous,  profusely  scattering  the 
light  that  seemed  naturally  to  gather  about  him,  he  ap- 
pealed to  each  one's  better  part,  and  never  in  vain. 

As  has  before  been  intimated  and  might  well  have  been 
inferred,  the  life  of  a  youth  thus  attractively  gifted  and 
so  conciliatory  in  its  conduct,  with  no  antagonisms,  no 
ill-will,  no  crude  harshness  to  encounter,  —  a  life  which 
adapted  itself  with  equal  harmony  and  sympathy  to  all,  — 
moved  on  smoothly,  with  little  of  incident  to  record. 
"  Centred  in  the  sphere  of  common  duties,"  his  early 
days  passed  away  like  soft  vernal  showers,  which,  gently 
descending  in  glittering  rays,  vanish  in  fructifying  peace 
and  leave  no  trace  of  storm  or  whirlwind. 

Such  were  the  chief  features,  mental  and  physical,  of 
Mason  "Warren  during  his  boyhood  ;  and  such  they  prin- 
cipally continued  to  be,  at  least  mentally,  ever  growing 
with  his  growth  and  strengthening  with  his  strength. 

Unhappily  the  fair  auspices  that  had  surrounded  Mason 
up  to  his  early  manhood  and  almost  until  his  entrance 
at  Harvard  were  fated  to  disappear,  and  declining  health 
soon  began  to  cloud  his  prospects  of  a  college  course. 
The  more  obvious  cause  of  this  sad  disappointment  was 
dyspepsia,  though  there  were  others  more  remote  to 
which  it  was  also  to  be  attributed.  So  grave  did  his 
condition  quickly  become,  that  he  had  been  connected 
with  his  class  barely  three  months  when  he  was  obliged 
to  leave  it.1     He  did  not  return  to  his  studies,  and  the 

1  The  warmth  of  Dr.  Warren's  sympathies  and  his  genial  nature  led  him  ever  to 
retain  in  after  life  a  vivid  regard  for  those  from  whom  he  had  been  thus  abruptly 


30  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEREN. 

opportunities  so  highly  appreciated  and  so  unwillingly 
relinquished  he  never  ceased  to  bewail.  For  more  than 
a  year  his  bodily  forces  had  been  gradually  giving  way, 
and  a  certain  weakness  of  constitution,  before  unsus- 
pected, had  developed  itself.  The  original  trouble  had 
been  much  increased  by  irregular  habits  of  diet  and  by 
injudicious  treatment,  especially  in  the  matter  of  medi- 
cine, which,  though  prescribed  with  most  laudable  mo- 
tives, had  a  very  different  effect  from  that  designed. 
During  the  two  closing  years  of  Mason's  attendance  at 
the  Latin  School,  he  had  much  to  do ;  and  though  pass- 
ing unnoticed  for  the  time,  his  tasks  were  probably  more 
than  he  could  accomplish  without  an  undue  strain  upon 
his  powers.  The  sessions  were  more  numerous  and 
longer  than  now,  while  the  boys  were  also  expected  to 
study  at  home.  The  work  was  generally  more  difficult 
than  at  present ;  and  several  ancient  authors,  at  this  time 
thought  unnecessary  or  even  unprofitable  in  a  prepara- 
tory course,  were,  then  required  to  be  studied  with  no 
slight  diligence.  There  was  much  cramming,  tiresome 
in  every  sense  to  the  majority,  and  barren  of  substantial 
gain  to  all  but  a  few  of  the  most  talented  and  precocious. 
This  extended  even  to  the  Latin  and  Greek  grammars, 
which  were  enforced  ad  nauseam  ;  and  hundreds  of  drearv 
rules  were  committed  to  memory,  —  a  penance,  as  it  were, 
which  should  be  only  too  gladly  performed  by  those  for 

separated.  His  feelings  for  the  class  of  1830,  in  which  he  would  have  graduated, 
were  strong  to  the  last ;  and  he  always  took  care  to  attend  its  meetings,  convivial 
and  other,  whenever  it  was  in  his  power  to  do  so.  It  was  his  desire  to  identify 
himself  with  its  members  as  closely  as  if  nothing  had  occurred  to  end  his  connection 
with  them.  In  his  journal  kept  when  in  Paris,  we  read,  under  date  of  Nov.  30, 
1832  :  "My  old  classmate,  Henry  McLellan,  has  just  arrived  here  from  Italy,  where 
he  met  Susan.  She  sent  me  a  small  cameo  ring  for  auld  lang  syne.  Henry  and  I 
passed  our  class  in  review.  They  are  now  scattered  over  the  world,  some  married, 
some  still  students,  while  a  few  are  no  longer  living.  They  have  mostly  turned 
out  well."  He  derived  an  especial  pleasure  from  being  chosen  to  preside  at  a  supper 
of  the  class  at  the  Exchange  Coffee  House,  on  the  evening  of  July  17,  1850. 
When,  in  1844,  he  received  the  degree  of  A.M.  from  Harvard,  he  welcomed  the 
honor  with  much  satisfaction,  as  also  he  did  his  election  into  the  ranks  of  the  Phi 
Beta  Kappa  Society  in  1849. 


STUDYING   OUT.  31 

whom  such  inestimable  blessings  were  reserved  in  the 
end,  —  a  wilderness  through  which  every  one  must  pass 
who  cared  to  reach  the  promised  land.  To  all  this  must 
be  added  the  peremptory  grinding  out  of  hundreds  of 
Latin  verses.  Of  course,  but  little  time  was  left  for  any- 
thing but  the  classics ;  and  it  may  truthfully  be  said  that 
these  were  first,  the  rest  nowhere,  though,  from  regard 
to  fastidious  utilitarians,  certain  claims  of  the  English 
tongue  were  acknowledged,  and  attention  was  professedly 
paid  to  reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic.  Thus  it  hap- 
pened that  Cummings'  Geography  and  Euler's  Algebra 
appeared  in  the  multitude  of  ancient  authors,  and  could 
be  dimly  distinguished,  rari  nantes  in  gurgite  vasto,  among 
scores  of  the  productions  of  antiquity,  ranging  from  "  Viri 
Romse  "  and  "  Selectae  e  Profanis  "  to  the  Greek  Testament, 
Homer's  Iliad,  and  the  Anabasis  of  Xenophon.  But,  on 
the  whole,  these  moderns  hardly  held  their  own ;  and 
Master  Gould  seems  to  have  shown  as  little  consideration 
for  the  vernacular  in  any  shape  as  if  he  thought,  with 
Dogberry,  that  "  to  write  and  read  comes  by  nature." 
The  natural  outcome  of  this  system  was  that  those  who 
wished  to  make  any  particular  progress  in  the  element- 
ary branches  of  the  English  tongue  were  obliged  to  seek 
the  means  thereof  elsewhere,  and  that  at  such  intervals  of 
time  as  they  could  snatch  from  the  more  exacting  claims 
of  the  Muses.1  With  this  object  in  view,  Mason  and 
many  of  his  fellows  were  accustomed  to  resort  to  instruc- 
tors who  taught  these  studies  when  their  school  was  not 
in  session.  One  of  them  was  the  Mr.  Wells  before  men- 
tioned as  having  given  the  final  touches  to  Mason's 
preparatory  studies,  who,  although  an  accomplished  stu- 
dent and  admirer  of  the  classics,  was  not  so  entirely 
joined  to  his  idols  as  to  ignore  the  claims  of  other  and 

1  This  had  been  the  custom  when  Mason's  father  was  at  the  Latin  School ;  and 
his  biographer  informs  us  that  he  entered  it  "  at  the  age  of  eight  years,  going  at 
midday  to  Master  Carter  to  learn  writing  and  arithmetic." 


32  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

lesser  divinities.  To  him  Mason,  two  years  before  he 
left  the  Latin  School,  daily  went  for  an  hour  or  more  at 
noon.  As  the  second  session  began  at  two  o'clock,  the 
most  important  meal  of  the  three  was  neglected  ;  and 
Mason,  at  an  age  when  nourishing  food  was  imperatively 
demanded,  often  had  no  dinner  at  all,  or,  which  was 
nearly  as  bad,  was  driven  to  allay  his  cravings  with  apples, 
cakes,  or  gingerbread,  or  some  other  delusive  and  per- 
nicious substitute,  snatched  and  devoured  on  the  wing 
without  regard  to  the  consequences.  Such  an  irregularity 
could  hardly  be  long  continued,  even  by  the  most  rugged 
youth,  without  leading  to  serious  results ;  and  in  Mason's 
case,  though  these  did  not  make  themselves  apparent  for 
some  time,  being  partly  kept  concealed  by  his  nervous 
force  and  gayety  of  spirits,  they  finally  caused  a  deplor- 
able loss  of  health.  The  symptoms  had  already  become 
quite  formidable  before  any  particular  attention  had  been 
excited  by  his  condition,  though  his  father  would  doubt- 
less have  observed  them  had  he  not  been  absorbed  by 
the  endless  and  exhausting  labors  which  were  entailed 
by  his  professional  reputation,  then  at  its  height.  And 
even  when  he  realized  the  actual  state  of  his  son,  the 
means  he  adopted  for  his  cure  were  such  as  to  prove  in 
the  end  almost  worse  than  the  disease,  and  to  wellnigh 
insure  his  final  taking-off,  though  they  were  employed 
with  the  most  earnest  hopes  of  success,  and  were  in  strict 
accord  with  the  prevailing  practice  of  that  time.  As  to 
medicine,  Mason  was  favored  with  far  too  much,  while 
of  food  there  was  too  little.  The  views  of  physicians 
were  then  radically  different  from  those  now  in  vogue ; 
and  their  mistakes  were  so  frequent,  albeit  entirely  un- 
suspected, that  their  route  might  well  be  said  to  be 
marked,  like  that  of  the  pilgrims  to  Mecca,  by  wrecks 
and  whitening  bones.  The  quantity  of  medicine  once 
prescribed  by  the  faculty  and  taken  by  their  patients 
strikes  us  as  simply  monstrous.     Of  this  custom,  Mason 


LAVISn    USE   OF   MEDICINE.  33 

Warren,  with  his  weak  digestion,  was  to  a  certain  extent  a 
victim ;  and  it  is  probable  that  he  never  entirely  recovered 
from  its  pernicious  effects.  It  is  not  strange  that  later  in 
life,  while  referring  to  the  evils  of  the  method  employed 
for  his  cure,  he  should  have  remarked  to  a  professional 
friend,  "  It  is  our  mission  to  rectify  the  mistakes  of  our 
predecessors,"  —  a  remark  called  forth  not  only  by  his  own 
experience,  but  by  that  of  thousands  of  others  who  had 
suffered  protracted  martyrdom  and  premature  decay  from 
this  source. 

For  this  the  medical  profession  were  no  more  account- 
able than  the  people  themselves,  who  from  the  earliest 
period  of  our  history  had  a  weakness  for  medicine  and  a 
firm  resolve  not  to  live  without  it.  The  blessings  it  was 
thought  to  confer  were  innumerable,  and,  as  an  essential 
aid  to  imperfect  nature  and  the  results  of  original  sin, 
could  not  be  over-estimated.  Our  worthy  fathers  contin- 
ually had  in  mind  that  ancient  precept,  "  The  Lord  hath 
created  medicines  out  of  the  earth,  and  he  that  is  wise 
will  not  abhor  them,"  which,  though  not  admitted  by  the 
learned  to  be  the  words  of  inspiration,  in  the  opinion  of 
our  ancestors  bore  the  marks  of  a  more  than  human 
origin.  This  feeling  was  already  conspicuous  in  the  time 
of  the  Pilgrims,  and  it  steadily  gained  ground  with  their 
posterity  for  many  generations.  The  early  clergy,  the 
colonial  governors  (particularly  John  Winthrop,  the  Salve 
Imperator  of  Connecticut,  with  his  yellow  ointment),  even 
the  Presidents  of  Harvard  College,  were  in  the  habit  of 
insinuating  their  peculiar  and  plausible  compositions  into 
the  bosoms  of  their  friends  and  followers.  As  has  been 
truly  said,  "  They  felt  that  their  work  could  not  be  com- 
plete without  sufficient  knowledge  of  the  healing  art  to 
enable  them  to  meet  any  emergency  which  might  arise, 
and  to  secure  the  entire  respect  and  esteem  of  the  com- 
munity in  which  they  lived."  Among  our  more  imme- 
diate ancestors  the  profession  increased  both  in  numbers 

3 


34  JONATHAN    MASON   WARREN. 

and  ability,  and  so  did  the  resources  commanded  by  its 
members.  The  people  at  large  came  to  think  that  a  tan- 
gible and  substantial  cure  could  be,  and  ought  to  be,  pro- 
vided for  every  bodily  ailment.  Naturally  they  took  a 
large  share  of  the  practice  into  their  own  hands,  and  the 
issue  often  showed  them  to  be  more  kind  than  wise.  A 
preventive  policy  of  a  liberal  type  seemed  to  them  emi- 
nently desirable,  and  this  made  them  quick  to  detect  from 
afar  the  signs  of  coming  disease.  Whether  they  were  in 
good  health  or  bad,  they  took  a  singular  pleasure  in  dos- 
ing themselves  and  each  other,  kindly  ministering  to  their 
mutual  needs  in  no  stinted  measure,  while  the  children 
with  secret  joy  sipped  what  was  left  in  the  cup,  and  cor- 
dially toned  down  their  too  rugged  constitutions.  Thus, 
when  blooming  youth  was  snatched  away,  it  often  hap- 
pened that  an  overdose  was  the  cause  of  the  abrupt 
demise,  though  they  deferentially  attributed  it  to  Provi- 
dence. The  same  might  not  unfrequently  have  been  said 
of  older  persons,  no  longer  living,  whose  gravestones  in 
many  an  instance  might  have  borne  the  inscription  once 
certainly  recorded  with  truth,  "  I  was  well ;  I  wished  to  be 
better,  and  here  I  am."  Like  the  physician  of  Monsieur 
de  Pourceaugnac,  they  considered  it  a  bad  sign  when  the 
patient  did  not  perceive  that  he  was  ill,  and  sought  to 
bring  the  conviction  home  to  him  in  every  available  way. 
In  those  days  there  were  numerous  remedies  which  en- 
joyed a  popular  fame  ;  and  among  them  senna  and  glauber 
salts,  known  as  the  "  black  draught,"  held  a  higher  rank 
perhaps  than  any  other,  as  a  general  panacea  and  univer- 
sal detergent.  These  went  hand  in  hand  on  their  pro- 
fusely beneficent  mission,  —  an  "angelical  conjunction,"  as 
Cotton  Mather  might  have  termed  it.  In  every  household 
with  any  pretence  to  a  good  sanitary  status,  these  elegant 
extracts  were  constantly  within  call.  In  that  of  Dr.  John 
C.  Warren  a  nice  little  saucepan  of  seductive  senna  was 
at  all  hours  kept  by  the  thrifty  housewife  in  a  persuasive 


DISUSE    OF    FOOD.  35 

bubble  on  the  hob,  ready  for  the  first  intimations  of  cor- 
poreal derangement.  In  this  way  it  was  thought  that  a 
subtle  process  of  cure,  even  though  unknown  to  the  bene- 
ficiaries, went  steadily  and  inevitably  on  ;  for  those  who  did 
not  take  the  mixture  internally  could  not  fail  to  imbibe 
its  steaming  essence  through  their  pores,  and  in  the  all- 
pervading  aroma  of  health  even  the  transient  visitor  en- 
tertained angels  unawares.  Of  such  sanitary  provisions 
as  these  Mason  Warren  during  his  boyhood  was  favored 
with  even  more  than  the  ordinary  share,  and  none  the  less 
that,  his  father  being  often  away  in  the  pursuit  of  his 
profession,  the  fond  mother,  anxious  for  her  favorite  son, 
naturally  sought  to  make  good  his  absence,  and  maternal 
solicitude  doubled  the  dose  which  of  itself  was  far  more 
than  enough. 

In  addition  to  these  dubious  means  for  the  confirma- 
tion or  recovery  of  his  health,  Mason  was  subjected  to  a 
dietetic  treatment  then  popular  with  a  great  majority  of  the 
profession,  —  a  treatment  which  now  appears  quite  as  ex- 
traordinary as  the  liberal  infusion  of  drugs  into  his  system. 
Its  principal  feature  was  a  general  abstention  from  food. 
Of  this  Dr.  John  C.  Warren  was  always  a  warm  advocate, 
and  he  never  ceased  to  urge  it  upon  his  patients  to  the 
end  of  his  career.  He  regarded  it  as  an  essential  element 
in  the  management  of  every  disease,  and  omitted  no  op- 
portunity to  commend  it  to  his  son.  Even  while  the 
latter  was  in  Paris,  this  was  often  the  burden  of  the  let- 
ters he  received  from  his  father,  who  regarded  the  habit 
of  temperance  as  not  merely  a  cure,  but  a  preventive. 
Writing  in  regard  to  the  death  of  a  much  lamented  young 
physician  of  peculiar  promise,  he  observes  :  — 

"  I  have  no  doubt  that  both  his  attacks  were  brought  on  by 
too  free  a  use  of  wine  and  food,  and  I  mention  this  to  you  the 
more  distinctly  because  I  feel  apprehensive  of  your  suffering  in 
the  same  way.  Young  persons  confident  in  youth  and  strength 
ridicule  the  hints  and  warnings  of  experience  ;  or  if  they  do  not 


36  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

do  thus,  they  forget  them  in  the  ardor  of  their  pursuits.  Provi- 
dence has  kindly  spared  you  more  than  once,  when  most  criti- 
cally situated.  It  now  lies  with  you  to  spare  yourself  by  a  life  of 
steady  temperance  as  to  liquid  and  abstinence  from  solid  food." 

Again  he  says  :  "Eat  little  and  avoid  wine.  Recollect 
that  health  of  body  and  a  good  conscience  are  necessary 
to  the  accomplishment  of  great  work."  In  another  letter, 
"  Be  careful  of  dinner-parties.  Health  is  easily  lost  and 
hardly  regained."  In  Mason's  youth  his  father  rode  this 
hobby  to  excess  ;  and  it  certainly  did  not  tend  to  promote 
his  son's  recovery  from  the  illness  which  now  afflicted 
him.  His  food  was  slowly  reduced  in  quantity  and  in 
quality  as  his  stomach  grew  weaker,  till  he  was  suffered  to 
eat  nothing  but  plain  boiled  rice  with  a  pinch  of  salt  and 
a  little  sugar  thrice  a  day.  At  last,  as  he  became  more 
and  more  feeble,  even  the  sugar  was  denied  him,  and 
then,  partly  from  prostration,  partly  one  may  well  sup- 
pose from  utter  disgust,  he  could  no  longer  restrain  his 
tears.  The  consummation  of  all  this  would  undoubtedly 
have  been  the  annihilation  of  dyspepsia  and  every  other 
ailment  then  and  forever,  had  it  not  been  decided,  as  a 
forlorn  hope,  to  test  the  effects  of  a  voyage  to  Cuba.  He 
had  now  grown  so  languid  as  to  be  unable  to  sit  upright. 
His  emaciation  was  such  that  he  seemed  "  nothing  but 
skin  and  bone  and  eyes."  Too  weak  to  walk,  he  was  car- 
ried to  the  vessel  on  a  mattress,  his  lustrous  orbs  still 
gleaming  with  the  light  of  young  hope,  and  peering  wist- 
fully into  the  future  with  spirits  that  held  their  own 
against  all  his  exhaustion.  Thus,  like  David  of  old,  he 
became  "  a  stransrer  unto  his  brethren  and  an  alien  unto 
his  mother's  children ;  for  the  zeal  of  his  house  had  eaten 
him  up." 


CHAPTER  III. 

CUBA.  —  NEWPORT.  —  PROFESSIONAL    STUDIES.  —  GRADU- 
ATION  AT    THE    MEDICAL    SCHOOL. 

Mason  sailed  for  Cuba  in  March,  1828,  with  his  elder 
brother;  and  they  reached  Havana  on  the  23d  of  that 
month.  Once  on  shipboard  and  beyond  the  reach  of 
medication  and  the  tactics  of  maternal  fondness,  he  soon 
began  to  revive.  Constitutionally  he  displayed  a  good 
reaction,  and  his  naturally  sanguine  temperament  availed 
him  more  than  a  dozen  doctors.  In  his  new  state  of 
emancipation  he  could  not  only  eat  sugar  on  his  rice, 
but  reject  the  whole  delusion  with  impunity,  and  choose 
the  food  he  liked.  Rhubarb  and  senna  vanished  with 
his  father's  roof-tree  ;  and  the  sea-air  that  replaced 
them  proved  an  admirable  tonic,  extorting  latent  drugs 
from  every  pore.  On  reaching  his  destination  he  found 
himself  already  on  the  way  to  recovery  ;  nor  did  his 
progress  in  that  direction  cease  during  his  stay  in  the 
island.     April  1,  he  wrote  to  his  mother :  — 

"  We  have  now  been  here  a  week,  and  are  both  in  much 
better  health  than  when  we  left  Boston.  My  health  in  par- 
ticular is  so  much  better,  and  my  looks  so  much  improved  that 
I  think  you  would  scarcely  know  me.  I  have  gained  consider- 
able flesh,  and  suffer  very  slightly  from  indigestion  in  com- 
parison to  what  I  did  at  home.  ...  I  gain  more  and  more 
daily,  and  hope  that  in  the  course  of  a  fortnight  I  shall  be 
wholly  well." 

The  young  men  were  received  into  the  house  of  Mr. 
William  Savage,  to  whom  they  had  taken  letters  of  intro- 


38  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

duction.  They  were  treated  with  every  possible  hospi- 
tality, and  nothing  was  left  undone  to  promote  the 
objects  of  their  visit.  Under  date  of  April  6,  their  host 
informs  Dr.  Warren  that  Mason  "  is  in  good  spirits  and 
exceedingly  interesting,  and  there  is  nothing  that  we 
would  not  all  do  for  him.  .  .  .  They  have  now  been  in 
the  island  a  fortnight,  and  this  morning  they  drove  out 
to  the  beautiful  coffee  estates  of  Mr.  Nathaniel  Fellowes, 
about  thirty  miles  from  this  city."  Dr.  Osgood,  who  was 
particularly  attentive  to  their  wants  and  devoted  to 
Mason,  also  writes,  April  14 :  — 

"  Since  his  arrival  he  has  gained  a  great  deal  in  strength  and 
fulness  of  habit.  He  has  taken  no  medicine  except  a  few 
doses  of  castor  oil  mixed  with  hot  coffee.  Wc  bake  the  unsifted 
flour  you  sent  me,  and  I  find  it  makes  very  good  bread.  It  is 
such  as  the  wrestlers  used  in  old  times  for  strengthening  the 
limbs."1 

The  sons  continued  their  stay  in  Cuba  until  the  end  of 
April,  when  they  took  passage  in  a  small  vessel  for  New 
York,  leaving  with  infinite  regret  the  tropical  luxuriance 
and  bland  climate  of  the  West  Indies.  On  Mason's  arri- 
val home  he  was  hailed  as  one  from  the  dead;  for  his 
friends,  and  especially  his  mother,  had  scarcely  expected 
to  behold  him  again  on  this  side  of  the  grave,  so  sad  had 
been  his  condition  when  they  bade  him  farewell.  They 
rejoiced  in  his  returning  life  ;  and  it  was  matter  of  thank- 
ful congratulation,  both  to  them  and  to  him,  that  during 
all  this  illness  his  spirits  had  not  lost  their  accustomed 
buoyancy,  while  the  serene  confidence  of  youth  still  faced 
the  future  with  a  trust  that  saw  nothing  beyond  its 
powers. 

1  This  bread  was  made  of  unbolted  wheat ;  and  Dr.  John  C.  Warren  was  the 
first  of  his  profession  to  set  its  merits  before  the  world,  and  insist  on  its  use  in  a 
certain  class  of  complaints.  In  his  "  Biographical  Notes  "  he  thus  refers  to  it : 
"  About  the  year  1825  I  found  out  the  use  of  bread  made  of  unbolted  flour,  and 
introduced  it  into  Boston,  though  with  great  difficulty  and  much  ridicule." 


NEWPORT.  39 

As  it  was  desirable  that  his  health  should  be  thoroughly 
established  and  not  overtasked  by  too  great  exertion, 
Mason  spent  the  next  few  months  in  comparative  idle- 
ness and  general  recreation.  A  large  part  of  the  summer 
saw  him  at  Castle  Hill,  the  farm  of  his  grandfather, 
Governor  Collins,  near  Newport,  whither  he  went  with 
his  mother.  This  was  situated  on  the  high  and  massive 
uplands,  about  three  miles  east  of  the  town,  which  stand 
well  out  in  the  ocean,  towards  which  they  broadly  slope 
in  nearly  every  direction.  Nothing  could  be  grander 
than  the  view  they  offer,  or  more  cool  and  invigorating 
than  the  breezes  that  sweep  over  them ;  and,  as  had  been 
hoped,  the  reviving  air  materially  aided  Mason's  progress. 
In  August  his  mother  informed  her  husband  that  he  was 
"  in  fine  health,  and  has  gained  flesh."  "  I  have  been 
very  well  since  my  stay  in  Newport,"  wrote  Mason, 
"much  better  than  at  any  time  during  the  last  three 
years,  excepting  the  cold  on  my  lungs,  which  I  find  im- 
possible to  get  rid  of."  To  this  may  be  added  another 
letter  to  his  father,  which  shows  his  moral  tone  and  natural 
strength  of  character.     It  bears  date  Aug.  21,  1828  :  — 

"  You  mentioned  in  your  last  letter  to  Mamma  your  fears  and 
a  caution  to  me  against  gaming  and  drinking ;  against  these  I 
think  that  I  am  secure,  having  been  sufficiently  tried  during 
my  residence  at  the  Havana  among  a  gaming  and  licentious 
set,  and  where,  when  sick  with  nothing  to  do,  having  been  often 
tempted  to  engage  in  cards  and  billiards  for  the  sake  of  some 
excitement,  I  have  never  consented.  My  playing  billiards  at 
Nahant,  to  which  I  suppose  you  refer,  was  but  for  a  few  times, 
and  then  only  for  the  sake  of  exercise  and  amusement,  but 
never  for  gaming.  I  have  been  often  tempted  to  drink  both 
wine  and  brandy  abroad  and  at  sea,  when  sick,  but  have  always 
abstained  from  them  only  after  dinner  and  then  sparingly, 
except  claret  and  water,  which  for  the  want  of  good  water  was 
necessary.1  ...   In  permitting  me  to  be  my  own  master  so 

1  In  this  age  few  can  thoroughly  appreciate  the  self-control  and  independence 
of  character  required  in  Mason  Warren's  day  to  abstain  entirely  from  alcoholic 


40  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEEEN. 

much  during  this  last  jTear,  and  being  so  much  indulged,  I  have 
felt  that  a  great  deal  of  confidence  had  been  reposed  in  me,  and 
have  endeavored  that  it  should  not  be  misused.  I  hope  you  will 
find  it  not  misplaced." 

Farther  on,  in  reference  to  his  own  disappointed  wishes 
for  a  college  education,  he  says :  — 

"  I  hope  that  Sullivan  will  fill  the  place  that  was  intended 
for  me.  His  talents  are  very  good,  and  will  entitle  him  to  a 
high  standing  if  improved.  There  is  nothing  that  will  be  of 
more  use  to  him  than  good  composition,  which  I  myself  know 
from  experience.  I  hope  that  he  will  be  successful  next 
Monday." 

Shortly  after  his  return  from  Newport,  as  yet  un- 
visited  by  the  world  of  fashion,  and  where  "  there 
were  not  a  dozen  cottages,  and  the  quaint  little  town 
dozed  quietly  along  its  bay,"  another  opportunity  pre- 
sented itself  of  testing  that  sea  cure  from  which  he  had 
already  derived  such  signal  benefit.  Mr.  Horace  Gray, 
a  wealthy  merchant,  wTas  about  to  sail  for  Europe  in  one 
of  his  own  vessels  with  Mrs.  Gray,  an  invalid  for  whose 
advantage  the  voyage  was  to  be  undertaken  at  the  sug- 
gestion of  her  physician.  Having  fresh  in  his  mind  the 
result  of  his  Cuban  trip,  Mason  was  glad  to  avail  himself 
of  the  happy  chance  thus  thrown  in  his  way.1  The 
auspices  under  which  he  departed  were  most  promising ; 
but,  unluckily,  the  issue  was  different  from  that  antici- 
pated. Instead  of  a  long  absence  on  the  other  shore 
of  the  Atlantic,  at  the  end  of  a  month,  much  to  the 
surprise  of  his   family,  he   again  made    his   appearance 

drinks  as  a  beverage.  By  nearly  all  his  associates  such  a  course  was  regarded  as 
"  a  priggish  and  ridiculous  asceticism."  He  might  have  been  socially  tabooed,  had 
it  not  been  for  his  position  and  the  many  manly  qualities  that  entitled  him  to 
esteem. 

1  On  this  occasion,  in  accordance  with  a  custom  that  has  now  fallen  into  disuse, 
he  obtained  a  passport  from  the  authorities  of  his  native  State,  instead  of  the  General 
Government.  It  was  issued  to  him  as  "A  Citizen  of  our  Commonwealth,  going  to 
Europe,"  and  bears  date  November  3,  1828,  being  signed  by  Governor  Lincoln 
and  giving  the  usual  description  of  his  person. 


PEOFESSIONAL    STUDIES.  41 

in  Park  Street,  and  informed  them  that  so  far  from  im- 
proving with  the  progress  of  her  voyage,  Mrs.  Gray  had 
grown  steadily  worse ;  and  her  husband,  as  the  only 
remedy  to  her  acute  sufferings,  had  ordered  the  ship 
to  be  put  about  in  mid-ocean,  and  headed  for  home. 
Though  this  peremptory  change  in  his  plans  caused 
much  disappointment  to  Mason,  he  gained  still  further 
in  strength  thereby,  and  the  bracing  salt  breezes  appar- 
ently completed  his  cure. 

With  reviving  powers  and  fresh  enthusiasm,  Mason 
now  gave  himself  unreservedly  to  the  vocation  he  had 
chosen  for  his  life's  work.  As  to  the  nature  of  this  voca- 
tion he  had  ever  been  able  to  see  clearly,  and  could 
now  have  no  possible  hesitation.  In  this  respect  he 
might  certainly  be  deemed  fortunate  beyond  many  of 
his  associates.  Not  only  the  circumstances  that  had 
influenced  him,  but  his  own  preferences  from  the  be- 
ginning had  impelled  him  in  one  direction.  He  was  not 
like  his  father,  who  at  first  hated  his  professional  studies, 
as  he  himself  declared,  and  had  no  peculiar  bias  for  any 
occupation,  but  had  been  urged  to  surgical  pursuits  by 
the  stimulus  of  a  good  conscience  and  a  stern  sense 
of  duty.  To  his  son,  on  the  contrary,  it  seemed  to  stand 
not  within  the  prospect  of  belief  that  a  Warren  should 
be  anything  but  a  surgeon,  or  could  fail  to  lend  his  aid 
towards  perpetuating  the  fame,  policy,  and  traditions 
of  his  family.  He  had  imbibed  his  profession,  as  it  were 
at  the  beginning,  from  the  maternal  breast,  from  the  very 
air  he  breathed,  from  the  silent  pressure  of  a  thousand 
hidden  influences,  which  increased  with  his  years,  until 
he  perceived  that  he  centred  the  hopes  of  his  parents 
and  the  prestige  of  their  name.  He  began  his  studies 
under  the  guidance  of  his  father,  who  was  at  that  period 
the  most  eminent  practitioner  in  New  England,  a  man 
of  iron  will,  a  born  autocrat,  who  ruled  the  whole  pro- 
fessional   fraternity  with   a    superb    and    absolute    sway 


42  JONATHAN"   MASON    WARREN. 

from  which  few  could  hope  to  appeal  with  any  chance 
of  success.1 

The  advantages  thus  open  to  Mason  from  the  outstart 
were  a  tower  of  strength,  and  in  some  ways  could  hardly 
be  overestimated,  though  they  were  to  a  certain  degree 
offset  by  professional  rivalry,  or  even  by  envy,  jealousy, 
and  personal  abuse,  arising  from  his  social  position  and 
his  connection  with  his  father,  —  injuries  which  he  did  his 
best  to  ignore  till  he  had  asserted  his  own  merits  and 
lived  them  down.  Dr.  John  C.  Warren  had  now  been  for 
fifteen  years  the  successor  of  his  father,  Dr.  John  Warren, 
in  the  chair  of  anatomy  and  surgery  at  the  Harvard 
Medical  School,  then  located  on  Mason  Street,  —  a  school 
of  which  the  latter  was  the  actual  founder;  and  here 
Mason  entered  his  name  as  a  student  in  the  fall  of  1830, 
though  continuing  his  studies  at  his  father's  house,  where 
he  not  only  saw  much  practice,  but  was  able  to  contribute 
no  small  share  thereto  himself. 

To  any  right-minded  youth  thus  situated  there  would 
have  been  ample  cause  for  exertion,  apart  from  all  con- 
siderations of  personal  profit ;  and  Mason  was  not  one  to 
overlook  any  reasonable  claim  upon  him,  whatever  form 
it  might  take,  or  from  whatever  source  it  might  arise. 
He  was  largely  conscious  of  the  past,  and  hence  all  the 
more  sensitive  as  to  its  equitable  demands.  Everything, 
in  whatever  direction  he  looked,  tended  to  give  him  the 

1  This  vigorous  self-assertion  and  tenacity  of  purpose,  disdaining  all  competition, 
were  peculiar  to  the  Warrens  from  their  earliest  history,  and  were  undoubtedly 
main  sources  of  their  success.  They  were  characteristic  to  a  remarkable  degree  of 
Mason's  grandfather.  Dr.  Ephraim  Eliot,  in  his  "  Account  of  the  Physicians  of 
Boston"  who  were  most  eminent  in  his  own  day,  —  that  is,  at  the  close  of  the  last 
century,  —  observes :  "  They  did  not  love  each  other,  and  all  were  determined  to  put  down 
Warren  ;  but  they  could  not :  he  rose  triumphant  over  them  all."  Farther  on  he 
adds :  "  One  night,  Dr.  Rand  returned  home  from  one  of  these  professional  meetings, 
and,  addressing  himself  to  me,  he  said,  '  Eliot,  that  Warren  is  an  artful  man,  and  will 
get  to  windward  of  us  all.'  "  In  1783  Dr.  John  Warren  was  attacked  by  a  fever  so 
severe  that  his  life  was  shortly  despaired  of  by  all  the  profession  except  Dr.  Joseph 
Gardner,  who  shrewdly  observed,  "  That  young  man  is  so  determined  to  recover 
that  he  will  succeed  in  spite  of  his  disease,"  —  a  remark  amply  justified  by  the 
patient's  reputation,  and  destined  to  be  further  illustrated  by  his  cure. 


ANCESTRAL   INFLUENCES.  4d 

position  of  a  pioneer  among  pioneers,  —  one  might  say 
"in  the  fore  front  of  the  hottest  battle."  Hence  success 
was  impressed  upon  him  as  a  sort  of  moral  obligation, 
a  duty  not  to  be  ignored.  The  past  had  asserted  its 
prerogatives  in  a  way  that  he  could  not  overlook  as  a 
gentleman,  to  take  no  other  view  thereof;  and  he  under- 
took the  work  that  faced  him  with  the  old  ancestral 
energy,  conscientiousness,  integrity,  and  lofty  aims. 

Mason  was  proud  of  his  lineage,  and  gloried  in  the 
illustrious  name  that  had  been  bequeathed  to  him  by  the 
founders  of  his  family.  The  worthy  record  of  these 
manly  sires,  standing  out  in  bold  relief  against  the 
oblivion  of  time,  had  a  deep  and  pregnant  influence  on 
his  own  life  from  its  earliest  years.  Their  glorious 
purposes  and  exalted  characters  were  ever  before  him. 
Their  names  were  always  vividly  apparent  to  his  sight 
as  they  shone  with  undying  lustre  in  the  firmament 
where  their  nobility  of  soul  and  spotless  aspirations  had 
forever  placed  them.  To  him,  by  reason  of  their  high 
endeavor,  the  very  air  was  purer,  the  sky  was  clearer, 
the  sun  gave  forth  a  brighter  lustre.  With  honest 
satisfaction  he  never  ceased  to  exult  that  he  came  from 
the  vigorous  stock  of  which  nations  are  made;  that  his 
predecessors  were  good  men  and  true,  —  men  who  thought 
no  sacrifice  too  painful  where  great  principles  were  at 
stake,  —  men  who,  stayed  by  the  refreshment  of  imperish- 
able deeds  and  urged  by  a  divine  instinct,  wrought  calmly 
on,  upheld  by  a  faith  that  knew  no  fatigue,  no  despair, 
no  change,  but,  confiding  in  an  ever-present  hope,  looked 
with  assured  peace  to  the  world  beyond  for  their 
reward. 

Could  Mason  live  to  make  so  great  a  name  as  his  still 
more  illustrious,  how  splendid  the  return  !  Here  was  a 
prize  that  might  well  encourage  one  to  rise  superior  to 
the  woes  of  the  world  and  to  death  itself,  while  it  might 
gild  the  very  gloom  of  the  grave.     It  was  not  to  be  his 


44  JONATHAN    MASON   WAKBEN. 

privilege  to  stain  with  his  life  the  consecrated  ground, 
like  him  — 

"  Whose  devoted  faith 
Snatched  Freedom's  charter  from  the  arms  of  death ; " 

but  there  were  other  fields  of  honor  to  be  won,  and 
towards  these  he  moved  with  no  unsteady  tread.  He 
foresaw  that  his  career  was  to  be  no  play.  He  never 
surveyed  the  future  through  rose-colored  glasses.  Its 
demands  and  its  sacrifices,  no  less  than  its  laurels,  were 
in  every  shape  thoroughly  appreciated  and  liberally 
acknowledged.  It  was  a  debt  that  weighed  upon  him 
with  an  ever-present  sense  of  responsibility.  There 
should  be  no  dawdling  on  with  aimless  aim.  He  had 
no  right  to  leave  unimproved  an  inheritance  so  rich  as 
his.  It  should  be  the  better  for  his  use  thereof.  Thus 
it  was  by  no  means  entirely  from  predilection  that  he 
gave  up  everything  to  his  profession.  He  had  other 
tastes  that  delighted  him  well,  and  the  refining  tendencies 
of  which  might  have  easily  beguiled  one  not  so  strongly 
committed  to  the  claims  of  duty;  but  to  these  he  knew 
he  must  not  yield,  since  his  profession  was  exacting,  and 
asked  for  all  that  his  health  could  bear,  leaving  no  sur- 
plus vigor  for  other  studies  or  accomplishments.  Thus 
he  calmly  and  trustfully  buckled  down  to  his  labor, 
setting  his  face  toward  the  morning,  and  moving  on  with 
a  quiet  healthy  enthusiasm,  burning  low  but  intensely, 
and  stimulated  by  its  very  purity.  For  the  moment  he 
flung  ancestral  dignity  and  pride .  of  place  to  the  winds, 
and  found  no  detail  too  distasteful  for  his  energies,  pro- 
vided it  could  aid  his  progress.  He  was  ardent  with  the 
glow  of  coming  manhood  ;  for  returning  strength  had  also 
inflamed  his  ambition,  —  an  ambition  nowise  diminished  by 
the  sight  of  a  rising  coterie  of  young  physicians  around 
him,  of  whom  several  were  proving  themselves  almost  his 
equals  in  promising  talent  and  in  the  eagerness  of  their 
aspirations. 


PATEIOTIG   AIMS.  45 

The  simple  fact  that  Mason  had  deliberately  chosen  the 
surgical  profession  as  his  own  was  another  fertile  source 
of  his  success,  and  gave  large  promise  for  his  future  from 
the  beginning.  From  his  youth  up  it  had  been  a  pecu- 
liar characteristic  of  his  mind  to  regard  with  pride  and  a 
most  active  interest  everything  that  belonged  to  him  by 
birth  or  acquirement,  or  was  in  any  way  closely  connected 
with  his  daily  life.  It  became  identified  with  him  quickly 
and  forever  merely  from  this  fact,  and  formed  as  it  were 
part  and  parcel  of  his  very  being.  This  view,  once  takeu, 
he  never  lost ;  and  it  naturally  led  him  to  see  all  his  sur- 
roundings through  a  peculiar  medium,  and  to  magnify 
them  into  enlarged  reality.  In  his  eyes  they  were  exalted 
into  a  rare  importance  simply  from  their  connection  with 
him,  and  it  gave  them  a  right  to  every  form  of  devotion 
at  his  hands.  This  feeling  was  widely  extended,  and  em- 
braced not  only  his  family,  his  home,  and  every  aspect  of 
domestic  interest,  but  his  native  city,  his  State,  and  coun- 
try as  well.  He  was  patriotic  and  public-spirited  in  the 
broadest  sense.  He  was  a  true  child  of  the  soil.  Boston 
was  his  city,  Massachusetts  was  his  State,  New  England 
was  particularly  his  country.  To  each  and  all  of  these  he 
was  very  sensible  of  certain  duties,  of  which  he  never 
could  bring  himself  to  be  negligent.  It  should  not  be  his 
fault  if  they  failed  to  profit  by  his  designs  for  their  bene- 
fit. He  would  ever  do  what  he  could  to  make  these  of 
the  best.  His  love  for  his  profession,  especially  in  later 
years  when  his  fame  was  widely  extended,  was  deeply 
saturated  with  this  determination.  He  wished  to  be  a 
representative  Bostonian,  a  representative  citizen  of  his 
own  State,  a  representative  New-Englander.  For  the  at- 
tainment of  this  end  he  shrank  from  no  toils,  no  sacrifices. 
He  had  always  before  him  a  high  standard  of  merit ;  and 
success,  should  he  live  to  secure  it,  would  shed  lustre 
not  only  on  himself  but  on  those  others  for  whom  he  had 
striven.     His  honor  would  be  their  honor;  and  wherever 


46  JONATHAN  MASON  WARREN. 

his  name  might  be  borne  it  would  be  hailed  with  eulogy 
as  that  of  one  who  had  liberal  aims  and  noble  objects,  un- 
tainted by  selfish  motives  of  personal  aggrandizement. 

As  Mason  progressed  in  his  medical  studies  he  was 
highly  pleased  to  find  himself  capable  of  a  good  amount 
of  persistent  work,  both  mental  and  bodily.  He  was  de- 
lighted to  be  able  to  prove  the  truth  of  the  maxim  that 
"  labor,  after  all,  is  the  only  thing  which  never  palls  on  a 
man."  He  certainly  needed  no  urging  to  do  all  that  his 
powers  would  allow  him  for  his  advancement.  Thanks 
to  his  father,  his  energies  were  well  directed,  and  he  was 
never  obliged  to  grope  in  the  dark.  The  benefit  of  his 
father's  experience  could  not  be  overestimated.  To  one 
of  his  parts  nothing  was  lost,  and  he  soon  became  more 
self-reliant  and  capable  of  independent  action,  and  thus 
able  wathin  certain  limits  to  free  himself  from  parental  or 
other  aid.  He  gave  evidence  of  a  dexterous  hand,  and  of 
a  judgment  and  sound  sense  remarkable  for  his  years.  It 
needed  no  particular  shrewdness  to  discern  his  rapidly 
maturing  faculties ;  his  intuitions,  quick  and  clear ;  an 
unfailing  tact  and  a  readiness  to  eliminate  truth  from 
uncertain  theories;  an  unusual  capacity  for  adapting  the 
learning  of  the  past  to  the  uses  of  the  present,  and  even 
for  shedding  on  it  some  piercing  light  of  his  own.  His 
prescriptions  were  also  made  out  with  a  moderation  and 
self-control  remarkable  in  face  of  the  temptations  to  which 
he  was  exposed.  The  seed  had  not  only  been  sown  on 
fertile  soil,  but  was  already  bearing  a  harvest.  It  could 
easily  be  perceived  that  the  family  name  would  not  suffer 
at  his  hands.  By  the  end  of  three  years  he  had  made  such 
obvious  progress  that  hosts  of  friends,  both  in  the  profes- 
sion and  out  of  it,  bore  tribute  to  his  talents  and  promise 
for  the  future. 

In  1832  Mason  graduated  at  the  Medical  School,  and 
took  his  degree  on  the  25th  of  February,  having  just 
before  reached  his  twenty-first  birthday.     The  class  num- 


EELATIONS   WITH   HIS    FATHEPw.  47 

bered  twenty-seven,  among  whom  was  his  near  friend  Dr. 
Henry  I.  Bowditch.  The  subject  of  his  thesis  was  "  The 
Comparative  Anatomy  of  the  Digestive  Organs  in  the 
Four  Classes  of  Vertebral  Animals," —  a  thorough  and  well- 
studied  essay,  written  with  great  perspicuity,  as  by  one 
who  had  full  command  of  his  material,  and  had  wrought 
out  his  conclusions  with  love  of  his  theme  and  no  small 
insight  into  the  details  thereof.  It  was  rich  with  quota- 
tions from  the  best  authorities  of  the  day,  and  with  many 
minute  facts  and  observations  that  showed  the  anatomical 
knowledge  of  the  writer.  It  was,  from  every  point  of 
view,  a  creditable  production,  and  might  even  now  be 
perused  with  interest  and  profit  by  any  one  who  sought 
to  know  the  progress  then  made  in  the  department  of 
which  it  treated. 

As  a  proof  of  the  relations  existing  between  father  and 
son,  —  relations  that  never  suffered  the  slightest  change  till 
they  were  sundered  by  death,  —  a  letter  of  advice  is  here 
given,  which  was  addressed  to  Mason  when  he  was  about 
to  begin  his  preparatory  studies.  It  will  serve  to  show 
his  father's  abiding  interest  in  his  son's  material  welfare ; 
the  zeal  that  he  felt  for  the  latter's  professional  progress, 
and  his  earnest  desire  to  lay  broad  and  deep  the  founda- 
tions which  his  own  experience  had  led  him  to  believe 
essential  to  solid  achievement  in  this  world  and  peace  in 
the  next. 

Boston,  March  27,  1830. 

Dear  Mason,  —  Some  things  I  have  wished  to  say  to  you 
at  some  time  I  think  it  best  to  commit  to  writing,  that  they  may 
be  more  distinctly  and  permanently  impressed  on  your  mind. 

I.  In  regard  to  your  health.  The  profession  you  propose 
to  follow  requires  health,  and  is  favorable  to  health.  Now  is 
the  time  to  fortify  yourself,  and  acquire  that  vigor  necessary  to 
successful  and  comfortable  practice  of  physic.  In  order  to  this 
you  must  exercise  unwearied  caution  :  (1)  As  to  j^our  eating, 
never  to  overfill  your  stomach,  and  always  select  such  articles 


48  JONATHAN   MASON"   WARREN. 

as  are  most  easy  of  digestion  and  calculated  to  regulate  the 
bowels.  These  you  must  learn  by  experience  and  observation  ; 
and  wnen  anything  goes  wrong  come  to  me.  Avoid  stimulants 
of  all  kinds.  (2)  Exercise.  Athletic  exercises  are  of  the  great- 
est necessity  and  importance  to  you.  Now  is  the  time  to  get 
strength,  —  now  or  never.  Pursue  this  with  constant  and  un- 
abated ardor.  Riding,  walking,  such  gymnastics  as  you  can 
practise.     Frictions  morning  and  night. 

II.  Studies.  Your  situation  gives  you  an  admirable  oppor- 
tunity for  acquiring  medical  knowledge,  if  you  rightly  improve 
it.  In  acquiring  and  storing  knowledge  the  most  efficient 
means  is  to  write  down  what  you  acquire  every  night.  This 
has  the  double  advantage  of  giving  you  knowledge  and 
strengthening  the  mental  powers.  A  person  who  has  not  had  a 
college  education  must  take  additional  pains  to  invigorate  his 
thinking  and  reasoning  faculties.  This  is  best  done  by  writing. 
Authorship  or  composition  is  obtained  in  this  way,  and  tli3 
faculty  of  writing  or  composing  is  indispensable  to  a  medical 
man.  (2)  In  order  to  obtain  mechanical  skill  you  ought  daily  to 
practise  something  mechanical,  however  simple,  even  sawing  or 
cutting  sticks  with  a  penknife,  and  often   try  your  left  hand. 

(3)  You  may  get  a  vast  deal  of  information  from  me  by  seeking 
it.  My  mind  is  so  much  occupied  that  I  do  not  think  to  tell 
you  a  thousand  things  which  I  have  learnt  and  am  willing  to 
communicate.  These  you  must  seek.  If  you  make  a  practice 
of  coming  into  my  room  the  later  part  of  the  evening,  it  will  be 
useful ;  for  though  I  am  always  occupied  and  often  fatigued,  I 
shall  be  glad  to  have  you  come  and  get  out  of  me  what  you  can. 

(4)  Observe  everything  closely.  You  are  apt  to  be  too  quick  and 
superficial  in  your  views.     This  must  be  overcome  by  exertion. 

III.  Morals.  Cultivate  a  cheerful  spirit,  and  it  will  give  you 
agreeable  manners.  Young  men  anxious  to  get  on  are  apt  to 
become  sour.  But  your  course  is,  with  reasonable  exertions,  so 
plain  a  one  that  you  have  only  to  labor  steadily  without  being 
uneasy  as  to  the  result.  Avoid  a  reserved  and  too  silent 
demeanor  among  your  friends  and  family.  (2)  In  your  inter- 
course with  young  men,  be  careful  to  select  such  as  are  of  good 
character  and  whose  conversation  may  be  profitable  to  you. 
A  man  is  known  by  his  company.  Avoid  those  who  are  fond  of 
theatres  and  dissipation.      Whenever  you  wish  to  go   to  the 


LETTEE   FROM   DR.   JOHN   C.   WARREN.  49 

theatre  always  speak  to  me  of  it  beforehand  ;  and  as  you  know 
it  has  been  with  me  an  invariable  rule  to  have  my  family  quiet 
at  ten,  so  never  stay  out  beyond  this  time  without  previous 
communication  with  me,  or,  if  it  be  a  common  party,  with  your 
mother.  I  do  not  wish  to  restrain  you  from  any  salutary 
pleasure,  but  my  experience  is  more  than  yours  and  better  able 
to  guide.  3.  Above  all,  cultivate  a  high  sense  of  religious  feel- 
ing and  duty.  This  is  the  proper  security  to  morals,  and  it  is 
the  greatest  and  only  resource  in  trouble.  Adhere  to  the  Epis- 
copal Church.  Fluctuations  are  dangerous,  and  unsettle  the 
mind.  Many  more  things  I  could  say,  but  fear  to  burden  you ; 
and  so  farewell. 

Your  affectionate  father, 

J.  C.  Warren.1 


1  This  letter  strikingly  recalls  in  style  and  tone  that  addressed  by  Dr.  James 
Jackson  to  his  talented  son  under  similar  circumstances.  No  one  aware  of  the  cor- 
dial friendship  that  existed  between  Dr.  Jackson  and  Dr.  John  C.  Warren  —  and 
which  was  so  fully  and  sincerely  continued  by  the  former  to  the  subject  of  this 
memoir  —  can  have  failed  to  observe  how  profoundly  it  was  based  on  a  mutual  de- 
votion to  the  same  high  aims,  and  especially  on  the  same  sympathy  for  every  form 
of  moral  and  religious  attainment.  In  spite  of  many  patent  differences  of  manner 
and  conduct,  the  inner  lives  of  these  able  and  excellent  men  were  really  modelled 
after  one  great  type.  The  truth  of  this  is  clearly  shown  in  the  advice  of  each  to  his 
son  when  about  to  pursue  his  studies  abroad. 

"  There  is  a  risk  of  life,"  wrote  Dr.  Jackson,  "  and  it  would  indeed  alter  the  as- 
pect of  my  future  days  if  I  did  not  hope  to  have  you  by  my  side  and  to  leave  you 
behind  me  in  this  world ;  but  this  is  the  smallest  risk  by  far.  Whether  we  pass 
a  few  short  years  together  in  this  world  is  comparatively  of  little  consequence ; 
whether  we  meet  in  a  better  world  is  of  immeasurable  importance.  This  depends 
on  ourselves,  on  the  strict  regard  to  morality  which  we  both  maintain ;  a  mo- 
rality, in  Dr.  Holyoke's  sense,  which  includes  piety,  —  a  regard  to  our  Maker  as 
well  as  to  ourselves  and  fellow-men."  Again  he  writes  :  "  In  temptation  I  think 
you  will  first  think  of  home,  and  then  cast  your  eyes  higher,  —  to  the  home  we  all 
ultimately  hope  for,  and  to  the  Eather  who  is  better  than  any  earthly  parent." 
Well  might  his  noble  son  say  in  reply  :  "  My  heart  beats  and  my  eyes  fill;  my 
hopes  are  brightened  and  my  resolutions  are  strengthened,  as  I  advance,  in  reading 
your  kind  letter  of  affection  and  advice.  Be  assured  I  will  not  neglect  the  opportu- 
nities which  I  am  about  to  enjoy.  My  constant  prayer  is  to  God,  that  he  will 
give  me  strength,  moral  and  mental,  to  improve  them  to  the  utmost.' 


CHAPTER  IV. 

EUROPEAN    TEAVELS     AND     STUDIES.  —  THE    CHOLEEA.  — 
LIFE    IN   LONDON   AND    PAEIS. 

Having  advanced  thus  far  in  his  professional  career, 
Dr.  Warren  discovered  that  he  had  again  reached  the 
limit  of  his  endurance  ;  and  for  the  second  time  his  health 
began  to  give  way  from  hard  work  and  excessive  devo- 
tion to  his  favorite  pursuits.  He  became  pale  and  thin, 
while  his  strength  slowly  failed  from  day  to  day.  He 
also  suffered  much  pain,  and  depression  of  spirits  as  well, 
from  dyspepsia,  —  a  disorder  which  was  ultimately  to  taint 
his  whole  life.  His  appetite  grew  less  and  less.  Under 
these  circumstances  he  was  naturally  led  to  reflect  on 
the  benefits  that  had  accrued  from  his  former  voyages, 
and  the  refreshment  that  a  similar  remedy  might  still 
provide  for  his  exhausted  forces.  Everything  was  to  be 
expected  from  a  few  weeks  on  the  ocean,  especially  if 
followed  by  a  prolonged  foreign  tour,  which  would  insure 
many  a  permanent  advantage  to  both  body  and  mind. 
In  addition  to  this  it  was  now  the  time,  if  ever,  to 
carry  out  his  own  and  his  father's  plans  in  regard  to  a 
course  of  professional  study  in  Europe.  The  latter  had 
laid  the  foundations  of  his  career  by  a  close  attendance 
at  the  medical  schools  and  hospitals  of  London  and  Paris 
for  more  than  three  years.  The  inducements  offered  to 
a  young  physician  at  that  period  not  only  yet  existed, 
but  had  largely  increased,  particularly  in  Paris,  where 
the  learning  and  ability  of  the  professors,  and  the  size 
and  appointments  of  the  hospitals  over  which  they  pre- 


DEPARTURE    FOE   EUROPE.  51 

sided  surpassed  all  that  could  be  found  elsewhere.  Dr. 
Warren  had  long  felt  an  eager  and  irresistible  desire  to 
enjoy  these  superior  attractions ;  and  with  this  sentiment 
his  father  had  a  natural  sympathy,  the  more  so  from  his 
son's  professional  ambition  and  sound  principles.  An 
excellent  opportunity  soon  appeared  for  crossing  the 
Atlantic  under  promising  auspices ;  and  on  Sunday, 
March  25,  1832,  Dr.  Warren  set  sail  from  Boston  in 
the  ship  "  Dover,"  Captain  Nye,  with  a  numerous  party 
of  friends.1 

As  the  hour  of  departure  approached,  both  the  ship 
and  the  pier  at  which  she  lay  —  Long  Wharf  —  presented 
a  scene  of  much  animation,  all  the  more  striking  from 
the  usual  repose  apparent  on  the  Sabbath  in  that  locality. 
Sunday  still  continued  to  be  observed  in  Boston  with  a 
stringent  display  of  the  old  Puritanic  rigor,  and  public 
opinion  was  impatient  of  all  levity  beyond  a  certain  well- 
defined  limit.  One  might  not  even  smile  too  broadly 
in  the  shadowy  presence  of  the  austere  founders  of  the 
State  on  that  day.  Upon  this  occasion  the  ordinary 
bustle  caused  by  the  sailing  of  a  large  and  handsome 
merchantman  would  have  given  rise  to  no  little  excite- 
ment; but  if  to  this  be  added  the  lively  chatter  and 
hearty  adieux  of  numberless  friends  and  relatives  who 
had  come  to  see  the  last  of  the  voyagers,  it  will  be  easy 
to  infer  that  the  affair  was  likely  to  make  an  indelible 
impression  on  all  present,  the  more  so  from  the  social 
standing  of  the  participants,  which  was  of  the  very  best 
and  magnified  it  into  an  event  of  positive  importance. 
On  leaving  the  harbor,  Captain  Nye  shaped  his  course 
for  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  where  the  greater  part  of 
his  passengers  were  to  land,  and  where  he  was  to  exchange 

1  The  list  of  passengers,  as  published  in  the  "  Advertiser,"  was  as  follows  : 
"William  Appleton,  Esq.,  and  servant;  Dr.  J.  M.  Warren  ;  Dr.  S.  C.  Greene  ;  B.  D. 
Greene,  Esq.,  and  lady  ;  Misses  Greene  and  Quiney,  and  attendant ;  Miss  Perkins  ; 
H.  B.  Rogers,  Esq.,  and  lady ;  William  E.  Payne,  Esq. ;  and  Mr.  W.  S.  Bullard, 
all  of  this  city." 


52  JONATHAN    MASON   WAEREN. 

his  cargo  of  Yankee  and  other  notions  for  cotton,  and  then 
make  the  best  of  his  way  to  Liverpool.  This  route  to 
Europe  would  appear  somewhat  circuitous  in  these  days  of 
rapid  transit  from  one  shore  of  the  Atlantic  to  another ; 
but  at  that  time  it  was  by  no  means  unfrequent,  being  re- 
quired by  the  necessities  of  commerce.  Dr.  Warren  spent 
a  fortnight  at  Charleston,  —  being  seriously  ill  during  a 
portion  of  the  time,  —  when  the  "Dover''  was  again  ready 
to  sail,  and  he  parted  from  all  the  companions  of  his  voyage 
with  one  exception,  his  friend  Dr.  John  S.  C.  Greene, 
who  was  also  on  his  way  to  pursue  his  professional  studies 
in  Europe.  The  detention  at  Charleston  had  been  very 
agreeable  in  spite  of  his  illness,  and  he  did  not  for  a 
moment  regret  the  change  from  the  raw  east-winds  of 
New  England  to  the  mild  spring  breezes  of  the  south, 
nor  that  from  the  capricious  sea  to  terra  firma.  From 
the  voyage  thus  far  he  had  derived  no  benefit ;  on  the 
contrary,  it  had  decidedly  increased  the  general  pros- 
tration from  which  he  was  already  suffering  when  he 
left  home.  Even  his  strength  of  will  was  powerless  in 
presence  of  continual  nausea ;  and  he  could  do  little  or 
nothing  to  mitigate  that  weariness  and  discomfort  which 
incessantly  weighed  him  down,  in  unfortunate  contrast 
to  his  former  experience  on  the  water.  His  natural  flow 
of  brightness  was  replaced  by  a  never-yielding  ennui ; 
and  he  who  ordinarily  would  have  been  overflowing  with 
abundant  cheerfulness  now  saw  himself  reduced  to  the 
extreme    of    dulness   and   indescribable   lassitude.1      For 

1  When  Dr.  Warren  was  on  the  eve  of  departure  for  Europe,  his  father  procured 
a  small  blank  book  and  had  it  handsomely  bound.  Mindful  of  the  temptations  of 
a  foreign  sojourn,  and  of  tfie  need  which  a  young  man  ever  feels  of  guidance  when 
away  from  those  to  whom  he  has  been  wont  to  look  for  counsel  and  protection,  he 
inscribed  with  his  own  hands  in  this  book  many  rules  of  conduct,  the  dictates  of 
his  own  wide  observation,  learning,  and  sound  judgment,  and  gave  it  to  his  son  to 
take  with  him.  In  an  appendix  to  this  memoir,  these  rules  are  printed  in  full,  that 
the  reader  may  perceive  how  deep  was  the  love  of  the  parent  for  his  son,  and  how 
full  their  mutual  confidence ;  how  tender  the  solicitude  he  felt  for  his  lasting 
prosperity ;  and  the  care  with  which  he  always  brought  forward  for  his  benefit 
the  crystallized  wisdom  of  his  own  earnest  and  prolific  life. 


ARRIVAL    IN    ENGLAND.  53 

this,  not  even  the  fair  weather  and  favorable  winds  that 
accompanied  him  to  the  end  of  his  passage  from  Charles- 
ton afforded  a  remedy ;  and  it  was  not  until  he  landed 
in  Liverpool  on  the  29th  of  May,  that  he  recovered  any 
great  degree  of  strength  or  even  a  portion  of  his  former 
elasticity  of  spirits.1 

At  this  point  of  their  journey  the  travellers  became 
conscious  of  an  atmosphere  of  excitement  which  was 
strikingly  contrasted  with  the  dull  tedium  of  an  ocean 
passage.  Sea-sickness  and  dyspepsia  combined  were  mel- 
ancholy enough  in  their  effects,  and  not  a  little  demoral- 
izing ;  but  they  were  mere  casual  incidents  compared  with 
the  malady  in  the  presence  of  which  Dr.  Warren  and  his 
companion  now  found  themselves.  The  year  1832  will 
long  be  remembered  as  an  annus  mirabilis  for  many 
reasons,  particularly  for  the  ravages  of  death.  In  fact, 
it  might  well  be  termed  the  annus  mortis.  The  decease 
of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  Cuvier,  Goethe,  Napoleon's  son,  and 
a  score  of  other  illustrious  men  would  ever  have  served 
to  fix  it  deeply  in  the  minds  of  those  who  came  after 
them ;  but  the  ravages  of  the  Asiatic  cholera  gave  it  a 
direful  prominence  which  will  never  be  forgotten.  When 
Dr.  Warren  reached  Liverpool,  the  progress  of  this  plague 
had  already  become  alarming.  In  that  city  the  cases 
amounted  to  ten  per  day,  while  the  tidings  of  its  havoc 
were  continually  arriving  from  other  parts  of  Great 
Britain  as  well  as  from  the  Continent,  where  the  epi- 
demic had  assumed  a  more  appalling  shape  than  had  been 
seen  in  Christenclon  for  centuries.  Almost  the  first  entry 
in  Dr.  Warren's  European  Journal  records  that  "  the  news 

1  Dr.  Warren  was  not  so  good  a  sailor  as  his  father,  whose  tenacious  pluck  and 
stoicism  enabled  him  to  hold  his  own  on  the  water  as  he  did  on  land  in  spite  of 
every  opposing  influence.  When  crossing  the  ocean  in  the  "  George  Washington," 
he  wrote  to  his  son  as  follows :  — 

"  At  sea,  June  24,  1837.  —  For  eight  days  we  have  had  contrary  winds,  rain,  mist, 
gales,  and  a  tremendous  sea ;  the  decks  often  inundated,  and  once  the  cabin  windows 
beaten  in  and  the  cabin  submerged,  so  that  we  could  do  nothing  below  or  above. 
My  sea-sickness,  however,  was  slight,  and  not  such  as  to  deprive  me  of  any  meal." 


54  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

from  Paris  gives  dreadful  accounts  of  its  attacks  in  that 
city,  one  thousand  deaths  and  over  per  diem,  and  not 
confined  to  the  lower  classes."  Nor  was  this  an  exag- 
geration. In  France  alone,  from  the  15th  of  March, 
when  the  first  case  was  identified,  to  the  end  of  the 
coming  September,  there  were  229,534  sufferers  from 
this  disease,  and  94,666  deaths,  of  which  12,723  occurred 
in  the  month  of  April  alone.  Paris  was  fearfully  smitten ; 
and  during  the  above  period  44,811  of  its  inhabitants 
were  prostrated,  18,402  with  fatal  results.  The  pest 
struck  its  blows  with  a  speedy  virulence,  distressing  to 
witness,  and  almost  verified  the  remark  of  a  famous  phy- 
sician of  that  day  who  said,  "  Elle  commence  par  ou  les 
autres  finissent,  par  la  mort."  In  the  metropolis  it  at- 
tacked all  classes  alike ;  and  many  eminent  persons  fell 
before  it,  including  Casimir  Perier,  the  Prime  Minister 
of  Louis  Philippe.  A  universal  panic  seized  upon  every 
one  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  Terrible  and  san- 
guinary scenes  became  familiar  to  all.  The  dead  accumu- 
lated in  houses  and  hospitals,  and  it  was  with  the  greatest 
difficulty  that  the  living  could  be  induced  to  bury  them. 
Dr.  Warren's  intimate  friend,  —  Dr.  James  Jackson,  Jr., 
then  in  the  French  capital,  —  whose  premature  decease 
shortly  after  this  time  was  so  greatly  deplored,  gave 
himself  up  to  the  most  minute  and  persistent  studies  of 
this  scourge,  and  remained  several  weeks  courageously  at 
his  post  in  defiance  of  every  danger.  In  a  letter  to  his 
father  dated  April  1,  he  says,  — 

"I  lament  to  tell  you  that  the  cholera,  which  was  yet  a  little 
doubtful  when  I  last, wrote  (three  days  since),  is  now  reigning 
in  Paris,  and  I  must  add,  to  a  frightful  degree.  To  this  moment 
there  are  three  hundred  cases,  and  a  full  half  already  dead." 

Later  he  observes  :  — 

"Now,  for  the  disease:  in  one  word,  it  is  death.  Truly, 
at  HStel  Dieu,  where  I  have  seen  fifty  and  more  in  a  ward,  it 


JOUENEY   TO   LONDON".  55 

is  almost  like  walking  through  an  autopsy  room ;  in  many 
nothing  but  the  act.  of  respiration  shows  that  life  still  exists. 
.  .  .  The  physicians  are  in  a  state  of  the  greatest  incertitude, 
not  knowing  which  way  to  turn.  ...  I  can  only  say  that  the 
disease  is   in   truth   almost  a  conversion  instantaneously  from 

life  to  death."  1 

* 
With  some  natural  misgivings,  but  not  suffering  him- 
self to  be  discouraged  by  the  outlook,  —  it  was  assuredly 
the  wisest  course  he  could  have  followed,  —  Dr.  "Warren 
proceeded  to  carry  out  the  plans  with  which  he  had 
started.  These  he  could  pursue,  especially  so  far  as  his 
profession  was  concerned,  under  most  favorable  condi- 
tions. His  father  had  now  a  transatlantic  reputation,  and 
a  large  correspondence  with  prominent  members  of  the 
faculty  in  Europe,  and  the  letters  he  gave  his  son  would 
insure  him  every  attention ;  while  the  latter,  with  his 
winning  manners  and  studious  desire  of  improvement, 
would  be  certain  to  add  to  the  interest  that  his  father 
might  have  awakened  in  his  behalf.  On  the  day  after 
he  reached  Liverpool,  being  provided  with  an  introduc- 
tion by  Mr.  Bickersteth,  "  the  most  eminent  surgeon  of 
the  place,"  he  visited  the  Infirmary  and  the  Lunatic 
Asylum,  also  the  Blind  Asylum,  all  which  he  examined 
with  care  and  thoroughness.  On  the  afternoon  of  June  3, 
he  left  for  Chester;  the  4th  saw  him  in  Birmingham, 
whence,  by  way  of  Warwick  and  Oxford,  travelling 
by  coach,  he  reached  London  on  the  8th.  He  enjoyed 
this   journey  to    all   appearance  with  considerable    zest, 

1  It  was  characteristic  of  the  Parisians  that  they  should  take  advantage  of  the 
reigning  dismay  to  add  another  element  of  horror  and  confusion.  The  funeral  of 
General  Lamarque —  another  victim  of  cholera  —  on  the  5th  of  June  gathered  an 
immense  crowd  of  Carlists,  Republicans,  and  Revolutionists  of  every  degree,  who 
were  quickly  inflamed  Into  an  insurrection  by  their  leaders.  This  was  not  long  in 
assuming  formidable  proportions,  as  the  insurgents  strengthened  themselves  in 
various  churches,  and  behind  barricades  in  the  narrow  streets,  and  fought  with 
desperation.  They  were  not  conquered  till  nearly  three  thousand  had  been  killed 
and  wounded  after  two  days  of  hard  fighting,  whereupon  an  ordinance  was  issued 
declaring  martial  law,  and  placing  the  city  in  a  state  of  siege. 


56  JONATHAN    MASON   WARREN. 

though  a  timid  person  would  have  met  with  many  draw- 
backs. The  cholera  was  not  so  deadly  in  its  effects  as 
in  France  ;  yet  the  victims  were  very  numerous,  so  much 
so  as  to  give  rise  to  the  wildest  excitement  at  Birming- 
ham, Manchester,  and  other  important  towns  in  the  in- 
terior, where  turbulent  mobs  were  roaming  to  and  fro 
at  will,  burning  and  plundering,  having  been  inflamed 
by  reports  that  the  wells  had  been  poisoned  with  the 
design  of  destroying  the  lower  classes,  —  reports  which 
gained  easier  credence  since  the  plague  in  England  ap- 
peared to  attack  only  the  squalid,  the  needy,  and  the 
dissolute,  and  seldom  those  in  easy  circumstances.  If  to 
this  state  of  affairs  be  added  the  fact  that  the  whole  land 
was  in  the  midst  of  the  wildest  political  furor  it  had 
ever  known,  the  system  of  rotten  boroughs  being  in  its 
last  agonies,  and  the  reform  bill  in  the  throes  of  its 
tumultuous  birth,1  one  may  have  some  comprehension 
of  the  prospect  that  lay  outspread  before  peaceful  tourists 
bent  on  nothing  but  mutual  improvement  and  profes- 
sional profit. 

On  the  day  after  his  arrival  in  London,  Dr.  Warren 
engaged  rooms  at  No.  125  Regent  Street,  and  began  a 
round  of  activity  which  lasted  till  the  end  of  his  stay  in 
that  city.  On  Sunday,  June  10,  he  attended  service  at 
St.  Paul's,  and  visited  Lord  Lyndhurst  at  Hyde  Park  Ter- 
race. June  11,  he  met  his  friend  Jackson,  who  confirmed 
the  reports  concerning  the  cholera  at  Paris.  On  the  next 
day  he  presented  his  letter  of  introduction  to  Sir  Astley 
Cooper,  —  "  he  lives  in  Conduit  Street,  not  in  any  style," 
—  "  who  received  us  very  pleasantly,  read  my  letter,  and 
immediately  entered  into  conversation  with  regard  to  a 
book  he  had  just  published.     He  asked  me  to  breakfast 

1  May  23,  1832,  Carlyle  writes  :  "  Democracy  gets  along  with  accelerated  pace,  — 
whither?  Old  borough-mongers  seemingly  quite  desperate;  meetings,  resolutions, 
black  flags  and  white  flags  (some  even  mount  a  petticoat  in  reference  to  the 
Queen),  threatenings,  solemn  covenants  (to  oust  Toryism),  run  their  course  over 
all  the  Isles.     Wellington  is  at  the  stake  (in  effigy)  in  all  the  market  towns." 


SIE   ASTLET    COOPEK.  57 

with  him  on  Thursday."  *  In  the  evening  Dr.  Warren 
went  to  the  King's  Theatre  to  attend  the  first  authentic 
performance  in  England  of  "  Robert  le  Diable."  It  was 
received  by  an  immense  audience  "  with  grand  acclama- 
tions." As  we  learn  from  Dr.  Warren's  journal  that  he 
was  "  obliged  to  stand  the  whole  evening,"  and  as  the 
curtain,  which  rose  at  nine,  did  not  fall  till  twenty  minutes 
before  two,  we  may  reasonably  conclude  that  he  had 
regained  a  fair  share  of  his  lost  strength.  On  Wednesday 
he  accompanied  Sir  Charles  Bell  on  his  rounds  through 
Middlesex  Hospital,  and  the  next  day  breakfasted  with  Sir 
Astley,  "  who  is  now,"  he  writes  to  his  father,  "  about 
sixty-five  years  of  age.  He  has  a  tall,  noble,  commanding 
figure,  slightly  inclined  to  corpulency,  which,  however, 
hardly  appears,  as  he  wears  his  clothes  tight,  with  his 
frock-coat  buttoned  up  to  the  neck.  His  first  expression 
is  peculiarly  agreeable  and  good-humored,  placing  the 
stranger  immediately  at  his  ease.  He  becomes  more 
serious  as  he  talks,  which  he  does  to  the  point,  always 
bringing  forward  some  subject  of  interest  to  his  visitor. 
He  is  certainly  a  very  king  in  his  profession,  beloved  and 
respected  by  all  his  contemporaries.  He  desired  to  be 
remembered  to  you.  He  has  given  up  most  of  his  prac- 
tice, and  now  merely  attends  to  consultations  at  his  own 
house.  'How  your  father  would  like  to  see  my  prepa- 
rations of  the  thymus  gland  ! '  he  exclaimed.2  '  I  shall 
send  him  a  specimen  one  of  these  days.'  These,  and 
others  no  less  fine,  were  all  made  by  himself.  He  works 
on  them  every  morning  before  breakfast.     He  says  he 

1  The  last  social  invitation  accepted  by  Dr.  Warren  was  from  Mr.  Gardner 
Brewer  to  meet  Mr.  George  Peabody  at  dinner  on  the  11th  of  April,  1867.  On 
the  next  day  he  wrote  in  his  journal,  "Mr.  Peabody  looks  very  much  like  Sir 
Astley  Cooper." 

2  It  is  pleasant  to  know  that  Dr.  Warren's  father  lived  to  enjoy  and  appre- 
ciate to  the  full  this  privilege.  In  1837,  while  partaking  of  the  hospitalities  of  Sir 
Astley  in  London,  he  wrote  to  a  friend  :  "  His  injections  are  among  the  most  beau- 
tiful and  fortunate  that  now  exist.  Those  of  the  thymus  gland  finely  illustrate 
the  anatomy  of  this  organ,  and  go  far  to  establish  its  physiology." 


58  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

never  publishes  any  theory  that  he  cannot  demonstrate. 
He  is  now  investigating  one  of  the  simplest  parts  of  the 
human  body,  which  no  one  has  thought  of  examining 
before.  Sir  Astley's  conversation  was  most  entertaining 
on  other  subjects,  as  well  as  those  I  have  mentioned,  and 
was  enlivened  by  anecdotes  of  Dupuytren,  Key,  and 
other  professional  leaders  whom  he  knows  intimately." 

On  the  19th  of  the  month  Dr.  Warren  saw  Miss  Frances 
Anne  Kemble  and  her  father  in  the  "  Hunchback,"  at 
Covent  Garden  Theatre.  The  next  day  he  visited  his 
sister  Susan,  then  Mrs.  Charles  Lyman,  who  with  her 
husband  and  son  had  just  arrived  in  London  from  the 
Continent.  On  the  21st  Mr.  Key,  the  great  operator, 
took  Dr.  Warren  over  Guy's  Hospital.  "  He  asked  me 
where  Boston  was,  in  what  State,  whether  we  had  a 
medical  school,  who  were  the  medical  men,  who  was  the 
lecturer  on  anatomy,  etc.  He  said  he  had  heard  of  Dr. 
Warren."  The  Fourth  of  July  was  celebrated  by  a  dinner 
at  Richmond  with  his  relatives.  In  the  evening  he  heard 
Brougham  speak  in  the  House  of  Lords,  and  O'Connell 
in  the  Commons.  July  5,  he  writes :  "  Sir  Walter  Scott 
still  remains  in  town.  He  is  alive,  but  very  low."  His 
last  day  in  London  was  the  9th  of  July,  when  he  break- 
fasted with  Dr.  Clarke,  afterwards  Sir  James,  "  who  was 
very  polite,  and  gave  me  a  number  of  letters  to  Edin- 
burgh, York,  etc."  The  following  morning  saw  him  on 
his  route  to  Cambridge,  whence  he  made  his  way  in  four 
days  to  York.  There  the  cholera  was  causing  great 
alarm.  "  The  assizes  have  been  deferred  on  account  of 
it,  and  many  families  have  left  town.  The  disease  has 
been  raging  here  about  six  weeks,  and  out  of  three  hun- 
dred and  twenty-four  cases  there  have  been  one  hundred 
and  fourteen  deaths.  The  population  is  about  twenty- 
four  thousand."  July  15,  he  quitted  York  for  New- 
castle, passing  through  Darlington,  "  a  very  pretty  town 
of  six  thousand  inhabitants.     It  has  been  very  warm  on 


IN   SCOTLAND.  59 

the  reform  question,  going  so  far  as  to  stop  every  person 
who  passed  through  the  village  and  demanding  their 
political  opinions.  The  carriage  of  one  of  the  anti- 
reform  dukes  was  attacked  and  stoned  while  passing  the 
town,  and  the  Duke  himself  narrowly  escaped  being  seized 
by  the  mob."  July  17  saw  him  in  Edinburgh,  where 
he  stayed  till  the  end  of  the  month,  receiving  many  kind 
attentions  from  Liston,  Syme,  and  other  leaders  of  the 
profession,  and  carefully  visiting  the  various  hospitals  and 
infirmaries.  Here  he  met  again  Dr.  Jackson,  and  took  an 
excursion  with  him  to  Stirling.  On  the  1st  of  August 
the  two  doctors,  having  parted  from  Dr.  Greene,  who  had 
gone  on  an  expedition  into  the  Highlands,  quitted  Edin- 
burgh for  Perth,  "  one  of  the  most  ancient  and  prettiest 
towns  in  Scotland.  It  is  said  that  when  Agricola  ap- 
proached it  with  his  army  in  advancing  into  the  country 
of  the  Caledonians,  they  were  so  much  struck  with  its 
resemblance  to  Rome  and  the  banks  of  the  Tiber,  that 
with  one  consent  they  cried  out,  '  Ecce  Tiber !  Ecce 
Campus  Martius  ! '  "  The  third  clay  of  his  jaunt  they  were 
at  Inverness,  having  gone  seventy  miles  by  coach,  the 
latter  part  "  over  the  Grampian  Hills,  through  the  most 
barren  and  desolate  country  in  Scotland,  nothing  to  be 
seen  but  barren  hills  covered  with  moss,  with  here  and 
there  a  flock  of  black-faced  sheep,  looking  like  negro 
women  dressed  in  white  gowns.  Young  Norval  was  justi- 
fied in  his  escape  from  his  father."  In  ten  clays  the 
travellers  returned  to  Edinburgh,  having  visited  much  of 
the  most  impressive  scenery  of  Scotland,  under  circum- 
stances peculiarly  favorable  to  its  enjoyment,  —  agree- 
able companionship,  freedom  from  care  and  luggage,  good 
weather,  and  joyous  spirits.  They  rode  and  drove ;  at 
times  they  walked,  with  knapsacks.  Now  and  then  they 
achieved  the  respectability  of  a  gig.  When  this  could 
not  be  compassed  they  were  well  pleased  to  secure  a 
cart,  in  which  latter  vehicle  they  reached  Fort  William, 


60  JONATHAN    MASON   WARREN. 

"  our  horse  without  bits,  driven  by  a  rope  tied  to  his 
nose."  In  this  varied  style  they  saw  Loch  Lomond  and 
many  other  localities  now  well  known  to  the  world,  but 
then  of  hardly  developed  fame.  On  the  9th  of  August 
they  reached  Loch  Katrine.  "  As  we  approached  this 
beautiful  lake,  and  came  in  view  of  its  quiet  and  placid 
waters,  the  scene  was  at  once  soothing  and  awful.  To 
one  not  accustomed  to  the  beautiful  calmness  of  an  inland 
lake  the  effect  produced  upon  the  mind  cannot  be  con- 
ceived. We  hired  a  boat  and  sailed  down  the  lake,  new 
beauties  appearing  at  every  move.  As  we  entered  the 
Trossachs  and  beheld  Ellen's  tree,  so  celebrated  in  "Walter 
Scott's  '  Lady  of  the  Lake,'  the  view  was  the  most  beau- 
tiful that  I  have  ever  seen  or  conceived." 

On  the  14th  of  the  month  Dr.  Warren  again  left  the 
Scotch  capital  for  a  tour  across  the  country,  going  to 
Lanark,  and  the  falls  of  the  Clyde,  stopping  at  Glasgow, 
where  the  cholera  was  raging,  —  "'two  hundred  cases  daily, 
seventy  or  eighty  deaths,"  1  —  and  finally  taking  a  steam- 
boat for  Staffa.  over  a  boisterous  sea.  On  his  return  he 
again  passed  through  the  Trossachs,  saw  Loch  Katrine 
and  the  Braes  of  Balquhidcler.  At  Edinburgh,  on  the 
21st,  he  found  letters  from  home  which  announced  the 
arrival  of  the  cholera  in  Xew  York  and  Philadelphia. 
The   mortality  was    said    to    be    great,  with    a  jpanic  in 

1  In  a  letter  to  his  brother  at  this  time  Carlyle  writes,  under  date  of  August 
31 :  "  Cholera  is  spreading ;  is  at  Carlisle,  at  Ayr,  at  Glasgow ;  has  hardly 
yet  been  in  our  county,  —  at  least,  only  as  imported.  It  is  all  over  Cumberland. 
Four  carriers,  one  of  them  from  Thornhill,  breakfasted  together  at  Glasgow,  and 
all  died  on  the  way  home.  The  Thornhill  one  did,  we  know.  It  has  gone  back 
to  Sunderland  and  Newcastle.  Medical  men  can  do  nothing  except  frighten  those 
that  are  frightable." 

In  a  note  on  p.  230,  vol.  ii.,  of  the  Life  of  Thomas  Carlyle,  Mr.  Froude  says, 
speaking  of  this  summer:  "The  cholera  fell  very  heavily  on  Dumfries.  For 
want  of  accommodation  the  sick  were  crowded  together  in  a  single  large  build- 
ing, out  of  which  few  who  had  entered  came  forth  alive.  The  town  was  terror- 
struck.  Carlyle  told  me  that  the  panic  at  last  reached  the  clergy,  who  were 
afraid  to  go  within  the  door  of  that  horrible  charnel-house  to  help  the  dying  in 
their  passage  into  eternity,  but  preached  to  them  from  the  outside  through  the 
open  windows." 


ABBOTSFORD.  61 

Boston,   and   all  communication  cut   off    between   that 
city  and  New  York.     On  the  23d  Dr.  Warren  went  to 
Abbotsford,  taking  Melrose  on  his  way.     The  interior  of 
Scott's  residence  he  could  not  see,  as  the  great  novelist 
lay  dying  within  its  walls,  his  last  pulsations  slowly  ceas- 
ing amid  the  universal  sorrow  of  that  land  on  which  his 
genius  had  dawned  like  a  newly  rising  sun,  gilding  with 
its  refined  gold   alike  the   beauty    and  grandeur   of   its 
scenery,  the  towering  forms  of   its  great  men,  and  the 
rugged  furrows  which  even  its  humblest  characters  had 
traced  in  the  past.     The  staghound  Brand,  however,  on 
whom  Scott  had  bestowed  the  boon  of  his  affection  and 
the  immortality  of  his  pen,  was  still  to  be  seen,  and  gave 
a   mute    and   characteristic  welcome.     "  On   taking   my 
place  in  the  coach  for  Edinburgh,"   writes   Dr.    Warren, 
"  an  odd-looking  gentleman  with  a  wooden  leg  descended. 
Him  I  afterwards  found  to  be  the  village  schoolmaster, 
and  by  many  supposed  to  be  the  original  of  c  Dominie 
Sampson,'  having  been   always   a  man    of  the  most  ec- 
centric manners  and  mode  of  expression.     He  had  been 
the  teacher  for  the  last  twenty  years  in  the  village  ;  and 
Sir  Walter  took,  no  doubt,  from  his  odd  ways  the  idea 
of  'the  stickit  minister.'     The  gentleman  who  was  my 
coach  companion  was  also  acquainted  with  another  of  the 
characters  in  '  Guy  Mannering,'  the  original  of  '  Dandie 
Dinmont,'  an  honest   farmer.     Lord    Castlereaach   a   few 
years  since  sent  to  him  to   purchase  one  of  the  pups  of 
'  Pepper  and  Mustard,'  to  which  the  old  man  sent  back 
rather  a  gruff  answer.    '  Do  you  think,'  says  he, '  that  I  am 
a-going  to  send  up  my  pups  to  lie  upon  a  carpet  in  Par- 
liament ? '  "     On  the  24th  Dr.  Warren  saw  Edinburgh  for 
the  last  time,  as  he  left  the  town  on  that  day  with  his 
friend  Dr.  Greene,  for  London,  which  he  entered  again  on 
the  5th  of  September,  having  visited  the  lake  district  in 
the  interval,  as  well  as  Buxton,  Chatsworth,  Haddon  Hall, 
Stratford-on-Avon,  and  other  noted  places,  the  attractions 


62  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEREN. 

of  which  must  have  been  sadly  damped  by  the  pouring 
rain,  which  he  informs  us  fell  without  cessation  during 
the  whole  journey.  Everywhere  he  was  brought  face  to 
face  with  the  cholera.  At  Manchester  he  records  seventy- 
six  cases  per  day ;  in  Liverpool,  one  hundred  and  two ; 
"  in  Bitton,  ten  miles  from  Birmingham,  of  a  population 
of  twenty  thousand,  fifteen  hundred  have  died  the  past 
week."  The  New  York  papers  spoke  of  the  ravages 
of  the  pestilence  in  that  city,  while  in  Philadelphia,  on 
the  8th  of  August,  there  were  one  hundred  and  seventy- 
six  sufferers  and  over  seventy  deaths. 

Dr.  Warren's  arrival  in  London  completed  the  first 
portion  of  his  European  tour,  which  from  the  very 
beginning  must  have  been  prolific  in  piquant  and 
startling  effects,  greatly  increased  and  made  doubly 
impressive  by  their  contrast  with  the  rather  tame  and 
monotonous  peacefulness  he  had  left  behind  him  in  New 
England. 

The  ensuing  ten  days  Dr.  Warren  spent  in  London. 
He  employed  them  in  a  characteristic  manner,  by  visiting 
hospitals  and  asylums  in  every  direction,  arduously  seek- 
ing every  addition  to  his  professional  resources.  Nothing 
could  exceed  the  kind  civilities  of  the  faculty  in  his 
behalf.  He  derived  especial  pleasure  from  operations 
for  the  stone,  which  he  witnessed  as  done  by  Mr.  Key 
and  Mr.  Babington.  Meeting  Mr.  Bryant  only  six  weeks 
from  Boston,  he  learned  that  the  latter  had  passed 
through  New  York  within  a  month  or  so.  a  Cholera 
had  produced  there  a  horrid  state  of  things.  Shops  all 
closed.  Broadway  deserted.  Nothing  in  the  way  of 
business  going  on.""  The  day  before  he  left  London, 
Dr.  Warren  called  on  Sir  Astley  Cooper,  who  gave  him 
letters  to  Dupuytren,  Roux,  Civiale,  and  other  great 
French  surgeons.  "  In  order  to  get  on  in  the  world,  his 
advice  was  '  to  rise  early,  to  concentrate  your  powers  on 
one  object,  and  not  to  settle  in  a  country  town/  '      Having 


CORRESPONDENCE.  63 

paid  a  final  visit  to  the  Veterinary  Hospital,  on  the  16th 
he  took  coach  for  Brighton,  whence  on  the  19th  a  steamer 
sailed  for  Dieppe. 

London,  Tuesday,  June  12,  1832. 

My  dear  Father,  —  I  arrived  in  London  last  Friday  even- 
ing, and  have,  according  to  Mr.  Wiggin's  1  advice,  taken  rooms 
in  a  central  part  of  the  city.  This  morning  I  called  with 
James  Jackson  on  your  old  friend  Sir  Astley  Cooper.  After 
waiting  half  an  hour  or  more  in  his  drawing-room  to  take  our 
turn  among  the  numerous  patients  who  had  come  to  consult 

1  This  name  will  excite  a  pleasing  ripple  in  the  memories  of  some  who  may 
still  live  to  recall  the  London  of  fifty  years  ago.  At  that  time  Timothy  Wiggin, 
"American  Merchant,"  was  one  of  the  most  popular  and  prosperous  of  foreign 
bankers.  Long  a  member  of  the  well-known  Boston  firm  of  B.  &  T.  Wiggin,  his 
sagacity  and  enterprise  had  led  him  in  1798  to  seek  to  extend  its  business.  Set- 
tling first  in  Manchester,  England,  where  in  1806  he  married  a  Miss  Catherine 
Holme,  of  Stockport,  he  removed  to  London  in  1825,  and  became  the  successor  of 
the  insolvent  American  banker,  Samuel  Williams.  He  soon  acquired  wealth  and 
reputation.  He  was  a  generous  host,  and  cordially  welcomed  all  his  friends  to 
No.  50  Harley  Street,  a  handsome  mansion,  where  he  lived  in  much  state  between 
Lord  Redesdale  and  the  Duke  of  Dorset.  Unhappily  the  financial  disasters  of  1837 
caused  his  suspension,  and  in  1842  he  finally  retired  to  his  country  place  at  Barnes, 
near  London,  where  he  died  Feb.  1,  1856,  leaving  ten  children. 

In  1810  Timothy  Wiggin  was  joined  by  his  brother  Benjamin,  and  their  part- 
nership continued  both  at  home  and  abroad  till  1825.  The  latter  took  up  his  abode 
in  London,  and  there  remained  till  1845,  with  the  exception  of  the  period  from  1821 
to  1826,  when  he  occupied  a  house  on  Beacon  Street  in  this  city.  While  in 
London,  at  No.  33  Upper  Harley  Street,  and  later  at  No.  28  Park  Crescent,  he  enter- 
tained with  as  much  style  and  comfort  as  his  brother.  In  this  he  was  most  effec- 
tively aided  by  his  wife,  once  Miss  Charlotte  Fowle,  a  woman  of  remarkable  beauty 
and  winning  demeanor,  whom  he  married  Jan.  26,  1804,  and  who  was  the  eldest  of 
the  six  children  of  John  Fowle,  a  farmer  of  Watertown,  Mass.  They  were  a  hand- 
some family,  and  the  oldest  and  youngest  daughters  were  famous  for  their  personal 
charms.  It  was  at  the  residence  of  Mr.  Benjamin  Wiggin  that  Mr.  Samuel  Welles, 
afterwards  the  opulent  American  banker  of  Paris,  first  met,  wooed,  and  won  Miss 
Adeline  Fowle,  the  youngest  sister  of  Mrs.  Wiggin  and  seventeen  years  her  junior. 
At  the  time  of  her  marriage  in  1816  she  had  not  yet  completed  her  eighteenth  year, 
though  her  beauty  of  form  and  feature  and  her  fascination  of  manner  already  fore- 
shadowed that  striking  and  brilliant  career  which  she  was  destined  to  lead  at  so 
many  European  courts  as  the  Marquise  de  Lavalette. 

After  their  return  to  Boston  in  1845  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Benjamin  Wiggin  continued 
their  wonted  hospitality  at  No.  5  Pemberton  Square,  which  is  still  well  remem- 
bered by  many  of  their  guests.  Here  Mr.  Wiggin  died  May  9,  1849,  at  the  age  of 
seventy-seven,  without  issue,  having  devised  his  estate  of  half  a  million  to  his 
widow  and  to  his  brother's  numerous  children.  Mrs.  Wiggin  soon  went  to  Paris, 
where  she  died  April  27,  1853,  in  her  seventy-first  year,  leaving  to  her  sister  Ade- 
line her  superb  jewelry  and  the  greater  part  of  her  handsome  fortune. 


64  JONATHAN    MASON    WARREN. 

him,  we  were  finally  ushered  into  his  presence.  He  received 
us  very  cordially,  inquired  particularly  after  your  health,  and 
spoke  of  your  former  pupilage  with  him.  From  my  recollec- 
tions of  the  engraving  you  have  in  Boston,  I  should  think  he 
had  grown  corpulent  of  late,  though  the  face  is  exact.  He 
showed  us  a  new  work  he  had  just  published  on  the  Thymus 
Gland,  and  explained  the  different  plates  in  a  most  satisfactory 
manner.  He  said  that  having  often  perceived  a  milky  sub- 
stance flow  from  this  gland  in  animals,  particularly  in  the  calf, 
he  was  led  to  suppose  that  its  office  might  be  in  some  way 
connected  with  the  foetus  in  utero,  and  by  numerous  injections 
he  has  detected  a  communication  between  the  gland  and  the 
left  jugular  vein.  The  theory  is  very  ingenious,  and  his  experi- 
ments very  beautiful  and  effective.  The  discovery,  if  it  prove 
to  be  such,  will  be  most  valuable.  He  says  he  intends  to  send 
his  work  to  you.  I  am  to  breakfast  with  him  on  Thursday,  and 
if  he  does  not  offer  me  a  copy  I  shall  purchase  one  and  forward 
it  immediately.  James  Jackson  was  so  delighted  with  the 
theory  that  I  believe  he  proposes  to  write  a  notice  of  it  in  the 
Medical  Journal.  He  was  in  Paris  during  the  greatest  ravages 
of  the  cholera,  and  has  prepared  a  work  on  the  epidemic  which 
he  has  intrusted  to  his  father  for  publication. 

I  called  yesterday  on  Dr.  Boott,1  who  gave  me  tickets  for 
the  Zoological  Gardens.  To-morrow  I  propose  to  visit  John 
Hunter's  Museum.  I  shall  probably  pass  two  or  three  weeks 
here,  and  then  go  to  Edinburgh,  stay  a  month  or  six  weeks  in 
Scotland,  and  proceed  to  Paris  for  the  winter.  Sir  Astley,  I 
think,  will  advise  me  to  remain  in  London  ;  but  I  have  been 
led  to  believe  that  London  offers  far  greater  advantages  to  one 
who  has  previously  studied  in  the  French  capital,  —  that  is,  if  he 
has  improved  his  time  there  ;  and  so  I  shall  undoubtedly  begin 
in  the  latter  city,  though  my  plans  are  not  entirely  settled. 

i  In  his  "Annual  Address  delivered  before  the  Massachusetts  Medical  Society, 
May  25,  1864,"  Dr.  Mason  Warren,  alluding  to  those  members  who  had  died 
since  the  last  meeting  of  the  Society,  mentions  Dr.  Boott  with  deep  feeling  among 
them,  as  "  a  native  of  Boston,  and  a  graduate  of  Harvard,  for  many  years  a  resident 
of  London,  where  he  had  gained  high  distinction  as  well  for  his  professional  skill 
as  for  his  eminent  scientific  attainments,  and  had  endeared  himself  to  thousands 
of  his  countrymen  by  his  kindly  manners  and  considerate  attentions.  Although 
resident  abroad  for  nearly  fifty  years,  how  many  among  us  feel  in  his  death 
the  loss  of  a  personal  friend  as  well  as  of  a  most  distinguished  member  of  our 
profession ! " 


CHOLEEA  IN   LONDON.  65 

The  cholera,  though  still  prevalent  here,  is  hardly  spoken  of 
as  alarming ;  in  fact,  I  did  not  until  this  afternoon  discover  that 
there  were  any  cases  in  the  city.  The  new  method  of  treat- 
ment introduced  by  Dr.  Stevens  has  of  late  caused  some  talk 
here.  He  says  he  has  injected  forty-eight  pounds  of  water 
strongly  impregnated  with  salt  into  the  veins  of  a  cholera  patient 
without  causing  death,  —  that  is,  immediate  death,  —  which  was 
done  in  pursuance  of  a  theory  that  the  disease  deprives  the 
blood  of  its  saline  properties.  Though  this  idea  may  be  false, 
and  the  treatment  is  in  most  cases  unsuccessful,  the  experiment 
is  curious  as  showing  what  great  quantities  of  foreign  matter 
may  be  introduced  into  the  circulation  without  destroying  life. 
There  are  no  new  works  here  on  the  cholera  of  any  conse- 
quence. Most  of  those  already  published  are  mere  general 
statements  of  its  progress  in  England,  in  Paris,  and  in  the 
towns  lately  attacked  ;  but  as  some  of  them  may  be  of  interest 
to  you,  I  will  send  them  as  soon  as  I  have  discovered  your 
bookseller,  Mr.  Hale. 

Two  more  volumes  have  appeared  of  Dr.  Bright's  splendid 
work  on  the  kidneys.  It  is  very  expensive,  costing,  I  believe, 
nearly  $100  ;  but  I  will  buy  it,  if  you  wish,  on  my  return  from 
Scotland. 

My  health  since  I  left  Liverpool  is,  I  think,  improving,  though 
I  still  suffer  from  dyspepsia.  By  care,  however,  and  attention 
to  diet,  I  hope  in  a  degree  to  overcome  it ;  but  I  find  it  difficult 
to  get  into  proper  order  on  account  of  the  continual  excitement 
and  movement  to  which  I  am  exposed  from  the  time  I  rise  till 
ten  or  twelve  at  night.  I  hope  soon  to  become  used  to  it,  and 
no  longer  deserve  the  admonitions  which  Mamma  bestows  upon 
me  in  her  letters  on  the  ground  that  I  fail  to  take  the  necessary 
care  of  my  health. 

I  had  an  opportunity  just  now  of  seeing  Sir  Charles  Bell. 
As  I  passed  Middlesex  Hospital  I  heard  that  he  was  visiting  the 
wards,  and  went  in  to  attend  him.  He  and  Mr.  Mayo  go 
through  the  hospital  together,  that  any  cases  requiring  con- 
sultation may  be  settled  on  the  spot.  I  was  much  pleased 
with  the  appearance  of  Sir  Charles ;  he  is  very  unassuming  in 
manner,  and,  I  hear,  very  attentive  to  strangers.  I  shall  try 
to   get  an  introduction. 

5 


66  JONATHAN    MASON  WAEKEN. 

London,  June  27,  1832. 

My  dear  Father,  —  I  am  still  occupied  in  visiting  the 
different  objects  of  interest  with  which  London  abounds,  and 
from  all  appearances  I  shall  be  detained  here  two  or  three 
weeks  longer.  .  .  . 

The  day  before  yesterday  I  went  to  Guy's  Hospital  when 
Mr.  Key  was  going  through  the  wards.  I  handed  him  a  letter 
of  introduction,  or  passport,  which  Sir  Astley  had  given  me  to 
all  the  hospitals,  and  he  was  very  polite.  He  described  the 
cases  to  me  as  he  passed  on,  and  made  many  inquiries  in  regard 
to  our  hospitals  at  home.  I  was  much  surprised  to  observe 
his  ignorance  of  the  geography  of  our  country.  He  asked 
me  where  Boston  was  and  in  what  State,  saying  that  he  had 
heard  of  it,  but  never  knew  exactly  its  situation.  He  pointed 
out  a  case  in  which  he  said  staphyloraphy  might  be  performed 
with  advantage  ;  in  fact,  he  had  performed  it  only  last  week 
on  an  adult  subject  and  with  success.  Instead  of  a  common 
ligature  he  used  a  new  instrument  invented  by  a  gentleman 
from  Berlin.  The  soft  palate  is  made  a  raw  surface  with  a  small 
knife  in  the  ordinary  way,  and  then,  by  means  of  a  forceps 
lately  designed,  two  small  steel  wires  are  inserted  on  each  side 
and  twisted.  This  method  Mr.  Key  thinks  preferable  to  the 
old  one.  Before  leaving  town,  I  mean,  if  possible,  to  get  a 
look  at  the  instrument,  and  also  to  see  Mr.  Key  operate.  He 
asked  me  if  I  had  ever  seen  the  operation,  and  I  told  him  once, 
on  a  child  of  fourteen.     He  considered  the  patient  too  young. 

After  quitting  the  hospital,  I  examined  the  museum  attached 
to  it,  which  is  increasing  very  rapidly.  A  man  is  kept  con- 
stantly employed  in  making  wax  preparations  to  illustrate  the 
different  diseases  that  are  treated  in  the  hospital.  These  are 
so  well  done  that  it  is  hard  to  convince  one's  self  that  some  of 
them  are  not  parts  of  the  patients  themselves. 

The  cholera  is  still  in  London,  also  in  Liverpool,  and  in  truth 
all  over  the  kingdom.  I  hear  very  little  of  it,  and  it  is  im- 
possible to  obtain  any  satisfactory  information  in  regard  to  it. 
It  prevails  principally  among  the  lowest  classes,  and  is  treated 
on  no  fixed  principles.  The  saline  method  is  most  in  vogue,  —  a 
bubble  that  will  soon  burst,  as  most  of  the  patients  are  sure  to  die 
according  to  this  or  any  other  process.  The  particulars  of  this 
plan  you  will  best  learn  from  the  "Lancet  "  and  the  "  Gazette." 


EDINBURGH.  67 

Edinburgh,  July  26,  1832. 
My  dear  Father,  —  I  have  been  passing  a  very  agreeable 
week  in  this  city,  and  through  the  kindness  of  Dr.  Clarke,  who 
gave  me  letters  to  prominent  medical  men,  have  obtained  admis- 
sion to  the  hospitals  and  other  places  of  interest.  The  principal 
surgeons  here  are  Mr.  Liston,  at  the  Infirmar}^,  and  Mr.  Syme, 
who  has  a  hospital  and  practises  by  himself.  The  latter  has 
greatly  distinguished  himself  of  late  by  his  operations  for  the 
excision  of  diseased  joints.  I  have  purchased  his  works,  and 
shall  send  them  home  from  London.  I  was  at  his  hospital  this 
week,  and  saw  him  perform  some  small  operations,  afterwards 
going  to  a  private  one.  He  showed  me  his  museum,  and  asked 
me  to  his  house  in  the  evening.  We  conversed  on  the  subject 
of  air  entering  the  veins  during  an  operation.  He  mentioned  a 
case  that  occurred  here  lately,  where  death  undoubtedly  ensued 
from  this  cause,  though  it  was  not  generally  admitted,  and  the 
facts  were  not  sufficiently  clear  to  be  stated  at  length.  He  was 
much  interested  in  my  account  of  the  Boston  cases,  and  asked 
me  to  prepare  him  a  statement  of  them  in  writing.  I  thought 
it  better  to  inform  you  first,  that  I  might  get  the  exact  facts. 
Be  kind  enough  to  forward  them  to  me  in  Paris,  if  you  are  will- 
ing to  have  them  published,  as  Mr.  Syme  wishes  to  refer  to  them 
in  his  lectures.  He  uses  the  actual  cautery  as  a  counter-irritant 
in  white-swelling  of  the  knee  and  ankle  joints,  and  very  suc- 
cessfully. He  passes  the  iron  over  the  surface,  and  the  wound 
requires  no  dressing  to  keep  it  open. 

I  went  round  the  Infirmary  with  Mr.  Liston,  a  short  time 
since,  and  saw  a  few  of  his  patients.  He  showed  me  a  case  of 
operation  for  a  new  nose  which  has  turned  out  remarkably  well. 
He  showed  me  his  museum,  which  is  very  valuable,  and  asked 
me  to  his  operations. 

My  plans  for  the  future  are  not  yet  entirely  matured.  James 
Jackson  and  I  leave  here  on  Saturday,  for  a  short  tour  in  the 
Highlands,  to  last  ten  days.  My  friend  Greene  is  to  start  at 
the  same  time  with  Dr.  Graham,  on  a  botanical  expedition. 
Jackson  afterwards  goes  to  Dublin  ;  Greene  and  myself  to  Glas- 
gow, on  our  way  to  London.  We  shall  probably  be  in  Paris  by 
the  middle  of  September.  The  cholera  still  rages  throughout 
the  kingdom  ;  over  one  hundred  deaths  per  day  in  London, 
and  ninety  in  Liverpool.     Here  it  has  been  severe,  but  is  now 


68  JONATHAN    MASON    WARREN. 

diminishing.  No  treatment  as  yet  has  succeeded,  and  injection  is 
losing  ground,  as  all  thus  managed  die.  Dr.  Scott,  who  has  the 
care  of  one  of  the  cholera  hospitals  here,  tells  me  that  he  tried 
the  saline  process  with  nineteen,  and  they  all  died.  I  have  col- 
lected a  few  pamphlets  on  the  subject,  though  not  of  much 
value.  I  sent  you  from  London  Stevens's  work.  I  hope  you 
received  it ;  if  not,  Gray  and  Bowen  have  it.  There  are  no  new 
surgical  instruments  of  importance.  I  have  seen  a  little  forceps 
for  twisting  arteries  instead  of  employing  the  ligature,  —  not  of 
much  use.  I  shall  send  it  home  as  a  curiosity.  During  my 
stay  in  Europe  I  should  like  to  procure  whatever  books  you 
may  want.  By  this  means  I  shall  be  able  to  know  what  is 
going  on  myself,  and  shall  not  run  the  risk  of  procuring  works 
which  you  have  received  from  other  sources. 

I  should  like  to  have  you  send  out  a  few  copies  of  your 
different  productions,  especially  your  work  on  diseases  of  the 
heart,  which  is  very  highly  spoken  of  here.  I  have  been  asked 
once  or  twice  if  I  am  related  to  the  Dr.  Warren  who  wrote 
on  the  heart.  Also  please  let  me  have  your  compilation  on 
cholera. 

As  the  cholera  is  now  raging  in  Paris  and  in  most  of  the  large 
cities,  and  as,  if  it  continues,  nothing  can  go  on  in  the  profes- 
sional line  during  the  winter,  pray  write  to  me  what  is  to  be  done. 
I  suppose  I  could  not  derive  any  particular  profit  from  going  to 
Germany,  as  I  know  nothing  of  the  language. 

From  the  beginning  of  my  visit  here  in  Edinburgh,  I  have 
spent  an  hour  or  two  daily  at  the  College  of  Surgeons,  where  a 
fine  collection  of  human  and  comparative  anatomy  has  just  been 
arranged  in  a  building  erected  for  the  purpose.  In  morbid 
anatomy  this  is  one  of  the  most  complete  in  Great  Britain. 

Since  you  were  in  Edinburgh  the  place  has  undergone  a  most 
wonderful  change.  The  new  town  has  been  almost  entirely 
built  within  the  last  thirty  years.  Monuments  and  public 
buildings  nave  been  reared  on  Calton  Hill,  while  a  row  of 
houses  surrounds  its  base.  From  all  accounts  of  its  former 
appearance  I  should  think  you  would  hardly  recognize  it.  It 
is  by  far  the  most  beautiful  city  I  have  yet  seen.  The  people 
are  stanch  reformers,  and  have  made  a  great  noise  about  the 
late  bill.  Their  celebration  of  its  passage  is  said  to  have  been 
the  most  splendid  display  ever  witnessed  here.     I  arrived  in 


SIR   ASTLEY    COOPEK.  69 

town  only  in  time  to  see  the  fireworks  at  the  end  of  the  day. 
The  Duke  of  Wellington  is  about  to  pay  them  a  visit  here,  I 
fear  to  his  personal  injury,  as  the  citizens  detest  him  thoroughly, 
the  fact  being  that  he  has  made  himself  unpopular  everywhere 
in  the  country  by  his  absurd  speeches  during  the  discussion  of 
the  Reform  Bill.  You  have  doubtless  noticed  in  the  papers 
how  he  was  treated  in  London.1  I  saw  him  just  afterwards  at 
a  review  of  ten  thousand  troops  in  Hyde  Park.  He  is  a  fine- 
looking  man,  and  his  profile  much  resembles  that  of  Mr.  Theodore 
Lyman.  He  rode  through  a  crowd  of  twenty  or  thirty  thousand 
people,  who  were  shouting  and  almost  pulling  him  from  his 
horse,  while  he  showed  the  utmost  possible  composure. 

London,  Sept.  13,  1832. 

My  dear  Father,  —  I  received  by  the  last  packet  your 
letter  of  August  6,  giving  an  account  of  the  commencement  of 
the  cholera  at  our  State  prison.  I  had  been  reading  about  this 
in  a  Boston  paper  the  same  morning,  and  was  surprised  at  some 
of  the  ridiculous  remarks  made  upon  it,  —  that  the  disease  was 
in  none  of  its  symptoms  like  the  cholera,  etc.  I  am  afraid  they 
will  soon  discover  their  mistake. 

I  have  been  spending  the  last  week  in  preparations  for  leaving 
London.  On  my  return  here  I  called  on  Sir  Astley  Cooper,  and 
found  him,  as  usual,  full  of  business.  He  spends  all  his  spare 
time  in  his  museum,  making  preparations  with  which,  from  what 
I  can  learn,  he  intends  at  some  future  day  to  surprise  the  world. 
James  Jackson  and  I  made  a  bold  push  to  see  his  collection,  and 
gave  him  some  pretty  broad  hints  ;  but  he  soon  saw  what  we  were 
driving  at.  Looking  up  from  under  his  eyebrows,  he  gave  one 
of  his  peculiar  chuckles,  and  said  that  he  showed  his  collection 
to  no  one  as  yet.  He  has  sent  many  of  these  specimens  of  his 
skill  to  the  museum  at  Guy's  Hospital.  Some  of  them  are  very 
fine,  though  he  styles  them  "  only  the  weeds." 

Sir  Astley  inquired  if  there  was  anything  I  wished  to  see 
here,  and  at  my  request  gave  me  a  letter  to  Baron  Heurteloup, 
who  has  just  invented  an  instrument  for  breaking  the  stone  ; 
also  to  Mr.  Tyrrel,  the  famous  operator  on  the  eye.     I  called  on 

1  "The  poor  old  king  has  been  hit  (by  a  solitary  blackguard)  with  a  stone. 
Wellington  was  peppered  with  mud  and  dead  cats  along  the  whole  length  of 
London."  —  Letter  from  Carlyle,  June  29,  1832. 


70  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

the  Baron,  but  he  had  gone  to  Paris  to  submit  his  invention  to 
the  French  Institute.  Weiss  has  imitated  the  "  stone  hammer," 
as  Sir  Astley  calls  it.  It  consists  of  a  long  staff,  with  two 
jaws  at  the  end,  one  movable ;  and,  the  stone  being  seized  be- 
tween them,  the  staff  is  struck  at  the  top  with  a  hammer,  and  the 
stone  is  thus  broken  into  several  pieces.  It  is  the  most  plausible 
thing  of  the  kind  I  have  yet  seen.  Sir  Astley  says  he  has  seen 
Heurteloup  use  it  successfully  several  times.  If  you  would  like 
to  have  one,  I  will  send  it.  I  should  have  done  this  already,  but 
the  instrument  is  expensive,  and  Weiss's  copy,  which  is  the  only 
one  for  sale,  is  not  acknowledged  by  the  inventor.  I  shall  see 
Heurteloup  in  Paris. 

I  send  you  Mr.  Key's  straight  staff  and  knife  for  lithotomy. 
I  met  Mr.  Key  at  Guy's  yesterday,  and  asked  his  opinion  of  the 
new  operation,  lithotrity.  He  thought  well  of  it,  but  said  he 
had  treated  seventy  patients  by  the  old  method  and  lost  only 
seven,  so  could  not  see  the  need  of  any  change  for  the  present. 
He  is  one  of  the  most  gentlemanly  surgeons  I  have  yet  met  here, 
which  is  saying  a  great  deal.  I  send  jtou  the  new  forceps  for 
twisting  divided  arteries  and  for  obviating  the  use  of  the  liga- 
ture. If  not  available  to  you  in  this  way,  it  may  be  so  for  other 
purposes.  With  it  I  forward  a  small  trochar  for  evacuating 
tumors.  There  is  a  new  knife  here  for  performing  the  flap 
operation  in  amputations,  something  like  the  catlin,  but  longer, 
about  ten  inches.  It  cuts  the  whole  length  on  one  side,  and 
one  third  on  the  other.  I  should  have  sent  this,  but  have  an 
idea  that  you  own  it. 

With  the  rest  I  send  you  five  casts  of  skulls,  —  four  from  South 
America,  the  remaining  one  a  cast  of  Blumenbach's  celebrated 
specimen  of  the  Caucasian  head.  They  were  all  done  by  a 
most  extraordinary  man  here,  Deville,  who  keeps  a  lamp-store. 
Having  in  early  life  a  great  taste  for  phrenology,  he  cultivated  it 
with  zeal,  and  has  now  accumulated  a  collection  of  several  thou- 
sand skulls  and  casts  from  the  heads  of  all  the  eminent  men  who 
have  lived  for  a  century  past.  This  has  cost  him  over  £20,000, 
and  he  is  still  adding  to  it.  I  went  to  his  house  with  James 
Jackson,  who  wished  to  have  his  head  examined  and  his  char- 
acter told.  After  conversing  for  an  hour  or  more,  Deville 
proceeded  to  do  this.  He  made  some  pretty  good  hits,  but  not 
more,  I  think,  than  could  have  been  gathered  from  Jackson's 


CKANIA   AND    COLLECTIONS.  71 

remarks  and  plrysiognomy.  He  told  us  some  wonderful  stories  ; 
but  I  do  not  think  much  more  of  the  science  than  I  did  before, 
though  I  shall  be  apt  to  inquire  into  it  more  closely.  The  four 
Peruvian  heads  from  Titicaca  among  the  Andes  were  brought  to 
England  by  Mr.  Pentland  of  the  Geological  Society.  Nothing- 
is  known  of  the  people.  They  have  left  no  traditions,  nor  any 
works  of  art  behind  them.  Deville  shows  them  as  illustrations 
of  the  near  approach  of  man  to  the  brute  creation  when  the 
intellectual  powers  are  not  cultivated.  I  was  anxious  to  get  a 
cast  of  the  Greek  head,  having  seen  two  most  splendid  speci- 
mens of  ancient  Greek  skulls  in  the  collection  of  the  Phreno- 
logical Society  at  Edinburgh,  the  most  perfectly  developed  heads 
I  have  yet  seen.  Deville,  however,  has  none  that  are  remark- 
able. If  you  would  like  casts  of  any  kind  of  head,  of  any  nation, 
or  of  any  particular  person,  by  writing  to  me  or  to  Deville  you 
can  secure  them.  In  case  you  apply  to  him,  he  will  send  them 
to  Mr.  Wiggin,  who  can  pay  for  them  and  have  them  forwarded. 
I  shall  get  the  skull  you  desired,  when  I  arrive  in  Paris. 

The  minerals  in  the  box  are  examples  of  all  found  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  English  lakes.  The  plants  and  engravings  I 
should  like  to  have  Mamma  preserve,  as  they  are  from  places 
I  have  visited  on  my  travels.  I  have  sent  you  some  English 
newspapers  gathered  in  the  different  cities  at  the  time  I  was  in 
them.  They  contain  accounts  of  the  cholera,  etc.  The  large 
forceps  were  made  to  order  in  Edinburgh.  They  are  for  open- 
ing the  spinal  column,  and  have  been  much  used  for  exam- 
ining the  spinal  marrow  in  cases  of  cholera.  They  are  Liston's 
invention. 

I  was  this  morning  at  St.  George's  Hospital,  Hyde  Park 
Corner,  and  saw  an  operation  for  the  stone  performed  by 
Mr.  Babington  on  a  boy  of  nineteen.  It  was  not  done  with 
so  much  facility  as  I  have  seen  you  display.  During  the 
last  two  or  three  days  I  have  been  occupied  in  visiting  the 
Museum  at  Guy's  Hospital,  and  the  various  charitable  institu- 
tions which  I  omitted  when  here  before,  such  as  Bedlam,  or 
Bethlehem  Hospital,  the  Asylum  for  the  Blind,  and  the  Philan- 
thropic Society.  The  last  and  most  interesting  was  the  Deaf 
and  Dumb  Asylum,  where  the  inmates  are  taught  not  only  to 
read  and  write,  but  to  speak.  One  young  man  conversed  with 
us  for  half  an  hour  with  all  the  ease  of  a  person  that  had  every 


72  JONATHAN    MASON    WARREN. 

sense.  He  understood  our  words  entirely  from  the  motion  of 
the  lips ;  and  he  regulates  his  voice,  he  says,  from  the  vibrations 
of  the  chest.  The  performance  was  wonderful ;  how  great  the 
utility  I  cannot  say. 

You  desire  me  to  remember  you  to  Dr.  Roots.  I  have  not 
yet  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him.  He  lives  at  some  distance 
from  London,  and  my  time  has  been  so  entirely  occupied  that  I 
have  been  unable  to  go  to  him.  I  thought,  also,  that  it  would 
be  of  more  advantage  to  me  to  form  his  acquaintance  when  I 
was  settled  here  for  the  winter,  than  to  pay  him  such  a  flying 
visit  as  I  should  now  be  obliged  to.  I  leave  London  for  Brigh- 
ton on  Saturday,  and  go  to  France  by  way  of  Dieppe.  Dr. 
Hodgkin  has  offered  me  letters  to  Foville,  of  Rouen,  but  I  shall 
be  unable  to  make  much  of  him,  as  I  cannot  speak  French  ;  and 
until  I  do,  I  shall  keep  clear  of  all  French  physicians  to  whom 
I  have  introductions. 


CHAPTER  V. 

PARIS    AND    THE    QUAETIER   LATIN".  THE    STUDENTS    AND 

THEIR   PROFESSORS. 

Having  remained  at  Dieppe  only  long  enough  to  secure 
places  for  himself  and  Dr.  Greene  on  the  diligence  to 
Rouen,  Dr.  Warren  reached  this  town  on  the  following 
day.  Thence,  travelling  post,  he  arrived  in  Paris  on  the 
evening  of  the  22d  of  September,  and  stopped  at  the 
Hotel  cle  Hollande  in  the  Rue  de  la  Paix.  On  the  25th 
of  the  same  month  he  removed  to  the  Hotel  de  l'Odeon, 
No.  6  Place  de  l'Odeon,  where  he  continued  to  reside 
till  the  ensuing  August.  This  was  situated  in  the  heart 
of  the  Quartier  Latin,  the  focus  of  medical  and  other 
learned  pursuits ;  and  here  he  quickly  began  his  studies 
with  habitual  zeal  and  industry.  In  his  journal  he 
wrote :  — 

"  September  25.  —  Took  rooms  at  the  Hotel  de  l'Odeon,  Place 
de  l'Odeon,  at  forty- five  francs  per  month.  Made  arrangements 
at  the  same  time  to  take  my  meals  at  the  pension  of  Madame 
Morel,  No.  4  Place  de  l'Ecole  de  Medecine,  at  one  hundred 
francs  a  month.  We  breakfast  at  half-past  ten  and  dine  at 
half-past  five.  .  .  . 

"October  6.  —  We  have  an  odd  variet}^  of  characters  at  our 
table.  Among  them  is  a  certain  Monsieur  Loyau,  a  little  fini- 
cal bewigged  Frenchman  with  a  white  cravat,  whom  one  would 
inevitably  at  first  sight  take  to  be  an  abbe.  He  calls  him- 
self an  aristocrat,  and  never  fails  to  respond  at  once  to  any 
attack  upon  his  order.  Generally  he  overflows  with  good 
humor ;  but  he  really  has  a  hot  and  peppery  temper,  and  as  he 
cannot  bear  to  be  worsted  in  a  discussion  he  often  displays 


74  JONATHAN   MASON   WARKEN. 

this  quality  in  defence  of  his  hobby.  Then  there  is  a  young 
Monsieur  Fritz,  thoroughly  republican  in  his  sympathies  and 
evidently  of  good  talents.  He  is  quick-witted,  and  well  able 
to  hold  his  own  in  any  debate  whatever.  He  strikes  me  as  a 
man  of  scholarship  and  intelligence  ;  and  between  the  abbe  and 
him  we  are  kept  in  lively  motion,  and  saved  from  all  possible 
chance  of  dulness.  The  two  make  my  study  of  French  much 
more  agreeable  than  it  would  otherwise  be,  —  an  advantage 
which  is  shared  also  by  a  young  fellow  from  New  Orleans, 
and  Mr.  Harris,  a  naval  officer,  who  take  their  meals  at  our 
table  and  have  the  same  designs  upon  the  language  as  myself. 
The  family  consists  of  Monsieur  and  Madame  Morel,  their 
two  daughters,  and  Madame's  unmarried  sister.  One  of  the 
daughters  exactly  resembles  my  good  little  sister  Emily,  and 
she  also  bears  the  name  of  Emilie." 

At  the  time  of  Dr.  Warren's  first  acquaintance  with 
the  French  capital  it  was,  as  it  has  ever  been,  unique 
among  cities ;  but  it  was  far  more  original  and  striking, 
more  picturesque,  than  now,  when  imperial  luxury  and 
a  magnificent  ambition  of  change  have  toned  down  its 
ancient  wrinkles  and  angularities,  or  smothered  them 
in  a  sea  of  glittering  tinsel  and  monotonous  splendor. 
Haussmann  and  his  devastating  navvies  were  then  in 
the  dim  and  tumultuous  future  ;  and  so  were  those  bou- 
levards of  his  which  have  let  in  the  coarseness  of  garish 
light  into  every  mysterious  nook,  and  swept  away  so 
many  coignes  of  vantage  that  once  delighted  the  artistic 
eye.  The  new  life  that  now  dawned  upon  Dr.  Warren 
was  like  a  kaleidoscope  compared  with  the  dull  sur- 
roundings of  his  native  town  and  the  uneventful  days 
he  had  been  wont  to  spend  there ;  and  though  the 
crookedness  of  the  narrow  streets  about  him  recalled 
in  a  measure  the  bewildering  lanes  with  which  he  had 
been  familiar,  the  resemblance  went  no  further.  Under 
every  aspect  Paris  stood  out  in  vivid  contrast  with  Boston, 
whose  Puritanical  leaven  and  well-worn  categorical  ruts 
seemed   the   bequest   of  a   remote   antiquity,   compared 


PAEISIAN    LIFE.  75 

with  the  novel  delights  of  a  society  where  each  moment 
glittered  as  it  disappeared,  leaving  the  fervid  glow  of  an 
electric  shock.  To  this  unwonted  experience  he  soon 
adapted  himself  with  easy  and  genial  bonhommie.  All 
his  associations  were  exciting,  and  crowded  with  droll 
suggestions  as  well,  and  ideas  heretofore  unknown  to 
his  impressionable  sympathies.  He  found  an  ever-fresh 
spring  of  delight  in  the  bizarre  manners  and  whimsical 
customs  of  the  Parisians ;  in  their  petty  domestic  econo- 
mies narrowed  by  the  practice  of  ages  to  the  finest  point 
that  human  nature  could  endure  and  live ;  in  their 
supreme  vanity  and  self-satisfaction ;  in  their  speaking 
gestures  that  meant  everything,  and  their  dramatic  lan- 
guage that  meant  nothing;  in  their  politeness  unequalled 
except  by  their  wit  and  their  selfishness ;  in  their  wor- 
ship of  Vhonneur  and  la  gloire ;  in  their  outer  cleanliness 
and  their  inner  lack  thereof ;  in  their  food  transmuted 
into  every  form  of  succulent  enticement  under  every  allur- 
ing name ;  in  the  marvellous  taste  and  effulgence  of  the 
toilette,  as  revealed  by  the  apparel  of  either  sex;  —  in 
all  these  and  innumerable  other  peculiar  features,  Dr. 
Warren  was  conscious  of  an  enjoyment  that  was  hourly 
taking  on  new  forms.  He  seemed  to  float  upon  the 
broad  current  of  an  element  theretofore  unknown.  All 
was  evanescent,  nothing  substantial.  He  had  come  from  a 
land  where  life  wTas  a  verity  that  nothing  could  conceal, 
a  hard  stratum  of  reality  here  and  there  cropping  out  into 
a  picturesque  eminence  of  fact,  to  dwell  where  life  was 
more  or  less  a  thin  tissue  of  fancy ;  where  birth  was  a  jest, 
marriage  a  convenience,  and  death  the  last  scene  in  a 
melodrama  ;  where  everything  was  done  for  present  effect, 
and  when  done  faded  away  into  the  limbo  of  vanity  and 
delusion. 

Of  all  the  localities  in  that  vast  and  eccentric  metropo- 
lis Dr.  Warren  could  not  have  selected  one  better  fitted 
to  impress  the  mind  of  a  foreigner  with  a  sense   of  his 


76  JONATHAN    MASON   WAEREN. 

own  strangeness  than  the  Quartier  Latin.  It  was  a 
centre  of  human  oddities  and  unbridled  indulgence  of 
every  taste  and  whim ;  a  motley  gathering  of  every 
human  vagary,  stimulated  by  the  contagion  of  kindred 
spirits,  leavened  with  wit,  and  often  driven,  by  the  mere 
freedom  from  control,  to  display  a  supreme  contempt  for 
morals,  for  manners,  and  for  every  ordinance,  human  or 
divine.  Of  its  peculiar  aspects  as  revealed  to  the  eye, 
a  vivid  description  was  given  by  Dr.  Gibson,  of  Phila- 
delphia, a  distinguished  member  of  Dr.  Warren's  pro- 
fession, who  at  a'  somewhat  later  date  pursued  his  studies 
in  the  Latin  Quarter.  It  is  here  quoted  as  a  truthful 
account  of  the  young  doctor's  surroundings  at  the  be- 
ginning of  his  Parisian  experiences :  — 

"  My  first  visit  upon  reaching  Paris  was  to  that  quarter  of  the 
town  called  the  Pays-Latin,  in  which  the  greater  number  of  the 
hospitals,  the  Ecole  de  Medecine  and  its  Museum,  the  Clinical 
Hospital  of  the  School  of  Medicine,  the  Museum  of  Dupuy- 
tren,  are  situated,  where  all  the  medical  students  and  many  of 
the  professors,  private  lecturers,  demonstrators,  medical-book 
sellers,  instrument  makers,  medical  artistes,  anatomical  work- 
ers in  wax  and  papier-mache,  preparers  of  natural  and  arti- 
ficial skeletons,  and  other  varieties  of  surgical  and  anatomical 
specimens  reside ;  where  the  streets  are  so  narrow  and  filthy, 
and  without  pavements  or  sidewalks,  as  to  endanger  life  at 
every  corner ;  where  the  houses  are  so  high,  old-fashioned, 
and  gloomy  as  to  resemble  jails  or  penitentiaries,  and  nearly 
shut  out  the  light  of  heaven  ;  where  the  catacombs,  those  vast 
depositories  of  human  bones,  the  accumulated  collection  of  ages, 
lie  beneath  the  feet,  extend  to  unknown  distances,  and  seem  to 
respond  by  hollow  groans  to  the  tread  of  the  foot-passenger, 
and  rumble  beneath  the  jar  of  cumbrous  vehicles  and  the  tramp 
of  clumsy  animals  that  are  incessantly  threading  the  narrow 
defiles  above  their  desolate  but  populous  domains  ;  where  in- 
numerable smells  of  concentrated  vigor  and  activity  and  varied 
odor  assail  the  olfactories  from  every  quarter  ;  where  loud  and 
discordant  cries  of  wandering  tribes  of  vagabonds,  vending 
their  peculiar  animal  and  vegetable  productions,  fall  upon  the 


THE    LATIN    QUARTER.  77 

sensitive  and  startled  tympanum  of  the  stranger  like  strokes  of 
the  sledge-hammer  or  harsh  gratings  of  the  saw-pit ;  where  the 
barking  of  dogs,  the  screams  of  parrots,  and  the  chattering  of 
monkeys  are  mixed  with  the  gabble  of  old  women  and  men  ; 
where  the  bowing  and  nodding  and  scraping  and  salutations 
and  recognitions  of  street-passengers,  bobbing  against  and 
shouldering  each  other,  followed  by  the  incessant  and  ever- 
lasting apology,  '  Pardon,  Monsieur,'  and  in  return  by  the 
complacent  shrug  and  grin  of  the  sufferer,  and  the  exclamation 
e  Pas  du  tout,'  afford  the  most  amusing  and  melancholy  mix- 
ture of  pleasurable  and  disagreeable  sensations  that  can  possibly 
be  conceived,  and  have  afforded,  no  doubt,  many  a  scene  for  the 
dramatist  and  the  painter." 

Once  fairly  settled,  Dr.  Warren  was  not  long  in  de- 
voting himself  to  the  work  that  lay  before  him.  His 
first  object  was  necessarily  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of 
the  French  language,  as  his  acquaintance  therewith  was 
slight,  and  until  this  defect  was  made  good  he  could  not 
derive  much  benefit  from  the  various  lectures  that  he 
proposed  to  attend.  His  efforts  in  this  direction  were 
vigorous  and  persistent;  and  he  was  much  gratified  at 
the  rapidity  of  his  progress,  which  was  greater  than  could 
have  been  expected,  as  his  linguistic  talents  were  not 
remarkable.  At  the  hospitals,  however,  he  was  not  de- 
barred from  beginning  his  studies  at  once,  no  knowledge 
of  the  language  being  necessary  in  order  profitably  to 
watch  the  operations.  Under  date  of  September  29,  he 
writes  as  follows:  — 

My  dear  Father, — I  wrote  you  from  Brighton  an  account 
of  my  last  transactions  in  the  British  world.  Since  then  I  have 
transferred  myself  to  Paris,  and  have  just  commenced  my  course 
of  studies.  The  language  I  find  more  difficult  than  I  had  ex- 
pected. As  to  the  common  questions  concerning  the  necessaries 
of  life,  it  is  easy  to  make  myself  understood  ;  but  when  it  comes 
to  conversation  I  am  entirely  lost.  I  have,  however,  taken 
every  means  to  acquire  the  language  as  soon  as  possible.  In- 
stead of  getting  our  meals  at  a  cafe,  Greene  and  myself  have 


78  JONATHAN"   MASON"   WARREN". 

entered  a  pension  where  there  are  ten  or  twelve  boarders  at 
table.  We  have,  also,  a  French  master,  a  very  intelligent  man, 
who  attends  us  at  our  rooms  daily.  He  does  not  speak  English  ; 
but  we  have  no  difficulty  in  understanding  him,  especially  as 
he  pronounces  his  words  slowly  and  distinctly. 

My  room  is  at  the  Hotel  de  l'Odeon,  near  the  School  of 
Medicine.  It  is  small,  but  convenient  and  well  furnished,  and 
costs  me  forty-five  francs  per  month.  I  went  yesterday  to 
H6tel  Dieu,  and  attended  Dupuytren  in  his  visit;  he  had  about 
forty  students  with  him,  and  performed  the  operation  for  cata- 
ract on  two  patients  who  were  lying  in  their  beds  ;  it  was  done 
by  the  light  of  a  candle,  all  the  students  crowding  and  jostling 
in  every  direction  to  see  him,  and  with  as  much  sangfroid  as  if 
he  were  only  bleeding  the  men.  Day  before  3'esterday  I  was  at 
La  Pitie,  and  followed  Louis  on  his  rounds,  afterwards  going  to 
a  post-mortem.  He  is  very  gentlemanly,  and  much  loved  by  his 
pupils.  I  think  I  shall  purchase  his  work  on  Phthisis.  At  La 
Pitie  I  saw  also  Velpeau,  who  has  lately  published  a  work  on 
Operative  Surgery,  which  I  have  purchased.  To-morrow  I  go 
to  Civiale's  hospital,  the  Necker. 

A  fortnight  later  we  read  :  — 

"  I  have  been  principally  occupied  for  the  last  few  weeks  in 
learning  the  language  and  visiting  the  different  hospitals.  As 
yet  I  have  not  begun  to  follow  any  of  them  regularly,  nor  have 
I  delivered  any  of  my  French  letters.  I  was  this  morning  at 
La  Charite,  and  saw  old  Boyer  extirpate  a  tumor  from  the  face 
of  a  woman.  He  was  followed  by  Roux,  who  performed  a 
bloody  operation  for  cancer  of  the  face,  which  commencing  at 
the  jaw  extended  forwards  to  the  lip  and  backwards  nearly  to 
the  ear.  The  gap  was  very  neatly  obliterated  by  the  approxi- 
mation of  the  lips  of  the  wound  by  the  harelip  suture.  Roux 
is  one  of  the  most  promising  surgeons  here  at  present.  He 
performs  many  uncommon  operations,  and  was,  I  believe,  the 
first  who  performed  that  of  staphyloraphy.  ...  I  am  now 
attending  a  course  of  lectures  on  reptiles  by  Dumeril,  at  the 
Garden  of  Plants,  as  much  for  the  purpose  of  learning  the 
language  as  for  the  importance  of  the  subject.  The  Medical 
courses  begin  in  November,  and  little  is  doing  as  yet.  Next 
week,   Bowditch    and    myself    intend    to   begin   a   course    on 


COURSE    OF    STUDIES.  79 

diseases  of  the  skin,  at  the  great  Hospital  of  St.  Louis.  We 
go  there ;  and  the  gentleman  whom  we  engage  calls  on  a 
number  of  patients  whom  we  examine,  while  he  explains  the 
symptoms." 

By  the  ensuing  January,  Dr.  Warren  had  got  thor- 
oughly and  systematically  under  way.     He  writes  :  — 

"  My  course  of  studies  has  been  finally  arranged  as  fol- 
lows :  I  commonly  rise  a  little  after  six,  the  servant  com- 
ing in  to  wake  me  and  light  my  candle.  From  six  until 
eight  I  attend  Chomel  at  Hotel  Dieu,  who  is  very  celebrated 
for  his  knowledge  of  diseases  of  the  lungs.  At  eight,  Dupuy- 
tren  begins  his  visit,  which  lasts  an  hour ;  and  he  afterwards 
lectures,  with  operations  and  consultations,  which  occupy  the 
time  till  eleven.  Then  I  breakfast,  and  attend  Richerand  on 
Surgery  from  twelve  to  one.  From  three  to  four  I  go  to 
either  Marjolin  on  Surgical  Pathology,  or  Andral  on  Medical 
Pathology,  they  lecturing  on  alternate  days.  The  evenings 
are  occupied  with  reading  and  other  pursuits.  The  lectures 
at  the  Sorbonne  and  at  the  College  of  France  have  just  com- 
menced; but  I  am  not  able  to  attend  them,  as  I  should  be 
obliged  to  neglect  those  at  the  School  of  Medicine.  This  I 
regret  much,  as  I  wish  to  hear  some  of  them,  particularly  those 
on  Philosophy.  The  lecturers  on  this  subject  are  of  first-rate 
talent.  Cousin  has  lately  been  made  a  peer  of  France,  and 
does  not  lecture ;  his  colleague  takes  his  place.  One  of  the 
most  eloquent  men  is  Jouffroy,  on  Modern  Philosophy ;  I  heard 
part  of  his  introductory.  He  reviewed  his  last  two  years' 
lectures,  which  were  on  the  objects  of  this  life,  etc.  Some 
of  his  remarks  were  most  bold  and  striking.  He  finished  by 
saying,  'In  my  next  lecture  I  shall  commence  with  the  future 
state  of  existence,  —  not  what  it  is,  but  what  it  ought  to  be.' 
The  great  materialist  here  at  present  is  Broussais.  In  my  next 
I  will  endeavor  to  give  some  account  of  the  state  of  religion  in 
France.  It  is  at  its  lowest  ebb.  If  there  be  any  change,  it 
must  be  for  the  better.  During  the  times  of  Charles  X.  hypoc- 
risy in  religious  matters  was  carried  to  the  greatest  extent 
on  account  of  the  bigotry  of  the  king.  Now,  under  Louis 
Philippe,  who  cares  nothing  for  religion,  the  mask  is  thrown 
off,  and  there  is  the  opposite  extreme. 


80  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

"  The  advantages  at  present  in  Paris  are  so  great  and  so 
numerous,  and  the  time  left  to  a  young  man  to  accomplish 
what  he  wishes  is  so  short,  that  without  great  precaution  his 
intentions  are  entirely  defeated  by  attempting  too  many  affairs 
at  once  ;  and  this  I  have  to  fear  myself,  as  many  most  important 
branches  must  be  relinquished  for  want  of  time." 

When  Dr.  Warren  began  his  studies  in  Paris,  over 
eight  thousand  students  were  frequenting  the  various 
schools  and  colleges  in  the  Latin  Quarter.  The  great 
majority,  as  might  have  been  supposed,  were  French, 
though  England  and  Germany  were  well  represented, 
and  there  was  a  little  transatlantic  colony  of  Americans, 
numbering  about  thirty.  More  than  one  half  of  the 
whole  body  were  professedly  following  medicine  or  sur- 
gery, while  the  remainder  gave  their  time  to  law  or 
theology.  In  regard  to  their  conduct  and  personal  ap- 
pearance, the  French  students  as  a  class  had  undergone 
little  if  any  improvement  since  Dr.  John  C.  Warren's 
youth,  who  described  them  as  "a  rude  and  vulgar  set  of 
people,  green  from  the  French  Revolution."  Generally 
speaking,  they  were  a  turbulent  and  ill-conditioned  crowd 
who  had  taken  refuge  in  the  Pays-Latin,  as  was  wittily 
said  by  one  of  their  countrymen,  "  pour  se  soustraire 
aux  pernicieuses  influences  de  la  civilisation."  Rakish, 
loudly  dressed,  and  by  no  means  clean  or  neat,  they 
were  for  the  most  part  too  idle  and  too  independent  to 
study,  while  their  lack  of  every  noble  quality  was  supple- 
mented by  coarse  licentiousness,  a  plentiful  display  of  bad 
manners,  and  heads  well  crammed  with  sedition.  The  air 
was  reeking  with  their  political  outcries,  indecent  jokes, 
and  the  songs  of  Beranger.  Religion  with  them  was 
but  a  vague  tradition,  morality  merely  a  name,  and  the 
scanty  few  who  possessed  the  spirit  and  pretensions  of  a 
gentleman  might  well  be  thankful  that  even  this  safe- 
guard from  utter  degradation  remained  to  them.  Far 
from    their   homes,  and   from    every  domestic   or   other 


MEDICAL    STUDENTS.  81 

favorable  influence,  hidden  among  the  multitudes  of  a 
great  capital,  and  free  from  any  check  of  public  opinion, 
they  were  tempted  to  the  indulgence  of  every  passion 
and  every  vice,  —  an  indulgence  the  more  irresistible  in 
its  power  and  the  more  disastrous  in  its  effects  from 
the  fact  that  they  were  in  the  heyday  and  full  fever  of 
young  blood.  Of  their  peculiar  locality  they  had  made 
a  sort  of  Bohemian  Babel,  impregnated  with  radicalism 
in  the  rough,  and  ever  seething  with  some  new  excite- 
ment, —  a  menagerie  of  humanity,  never  tame,  and  always 
on  the  verge  of  a  wild  outbreak.  It  was  the  favorite 
resort  of  irregular  natures ;  the  chosen  home  of  rampant 
eccentricity,  despising  law  and  order,  and  full  of  lavish  ex- 
travagance of  word  and  deed ;  an  Alsatia  of  enfants  troiwes 
and  of  femmes  perdues,  where  sensuality  ran  riot  and  left 
few  unscathed.1 

Being  exposed  to  such  almost  inevitable  hindrances 
at  the  very  threshold,  those  who  really  sought  to  carry 
out  the  plans  for  which  they  had  presumabty  come  to 
Paris  were  few  in  number,  and  certainly  deserved  a  good 
share  of  credit.  The  advantages  they  enjoyed  were 
obvious  and  incontestable,  and  in  this  respect  Paris  was 
unequalled  by  any  other  city.  Nowhere  else  could  be 
found  instructors  of  such  signal  ability,  such  valuable 
private  courses  managed  by  eminent  practitioners,  such 
facility  of  dissection,  or  hospitals  so  amply  provided  with 
patients.  There  were,  in  the  government  institutions 
alone,  twenty-three  professors,  with  numbers  of  hon- 
orary professors  and  assistants.  The  leading  professors 
were    men   of  admitted  talents    and    great    experience, 

1  In  Dr.  Warren's  journal  one  reads :  "  Dec.  29,  1833.  —  Had  my  umbrella 
stolen  at  the  Ecole  de  Medecine  by  some  of  its  worthy  members."  At  a  later  date 
this  weakness  appears  to  have  been  still  prevalent ;  for  Dr.  John  C.  Warren,  in 
the  journal  kept  in  1837,  during  his  visit  to  Paris  records  :  "November  24. —  At  eight, 
in  company  with  Drs.  Outram  and  Spencer,  visited  the  Hotel  Dieu  with  Roux. 
Saw  an  interesting  case  of  ophthalmia.  He  told  me  not  to  leave  my  cloak  in  the 
room  or  ward,  with  some  amusing  remarks  on  the  danger." 

6 


82  JONATHAN   MASON    WARREN. 

burning  beacons  of  skill  and  learning ;  but,  unhappily, 
subject  to  defects  in  many  instances  that  seriously 
impaired  their  reputations,  and  rendered  them  the  last 
examples  which  any  young  physician,  especially  on  this 
side  of  the  Atlantic,  ought  to  have  chosen  for  his  own 
guidance.  Having  fought  their  respective  ways  to  the 
chairs  they  occupied  through  the  most  desperate  and  un- 
scrupulous enmity  and  opposition,  —  an  opposition  that  dis- 
dained no  weapon,  however  contemptible,  —  they  mostly 
felt  themselves  justified  in  retorting  upon  their  less  suc- 
cessful rivals  by  every  means  in  their  power.  Hence 
ensued  many  performances  that  were  disgraceful  not 
only  to  themselves  but  to  the  profession.  Their  lectures 
were  not  limited  to  medical  and  surgical  subjects,  but 
might  be  said  to  have  an  indefinite  range  in  every  direc- 
tion. They  were  pungent,  witty,  bitter,  sarcastic,  spar- 
ing no  one,  and  often  imbued  with  a  sparkling  infusion 
of  radical  political  ideas,  scepticism,  and  infidelity.  Their 
chief  feature,  however,  may  be  said  to  have  been  the 
abuse  of  their  opponents  with  which  they  overflowed. 
Nothing  could  surpass  the  personal  censure  and  slan- 
derous epithets  which  these  famous  surgeons  bandied  to 
and  fro,  winged  by  vanity  and  inflamed  by  spite.  Their 
malignity1  was  equalled  only  by  their  bitterness,  and 
their  pens  were  sharper  than  drawn  swords.  Their  wits 
were  more  pungent  than  their  lancets,  and  their  tongues 
more  cutting  than  their  scalpels.  The  poignant  thrusts 
they  exchanged  —  pures  amenites  chirnrgicales  —  filled 
the  profession  with  a  frantic  joy,  while  the  crowd  of 
spectators  fired  the  ambition  and  whetted  the  activity 
of  each  contestant.  As  he  performed  some  marvel  of 
dexterity,  and  then  availed  himself  of  the    occasion  to 

1  The  French  physicians  generally  were  by  no  means  behindhand  in  this  matter. 
Dr.  John  C.  Warren  wrote  from  Paris  in  1837  :  "  The  jealousy  and  hatred  between 
the  medical  men  in  Paris  are  excessive.  It  is  dangerous  to  speak  of  one  in  presence 
of  another." 


SUKGICAL    AMENITIES.  83 

scourge  and  goad  his  confreres*  the  students  listened  in 
delight,  and  manifested  their  approval  by  loud  applause. 
From  the  expressions  used  one  might  have  supposed  it 
the  principal  aim  of  each  professor's  life  to  persecute  his 
competitors  to  the  death,  and  then  to  dissect  their  bodies. 
Said  an  observer  :  "  Broussais  whips  all  the  world,  and  all 
the  world  Broussais."  Said  another :  "  A  lecture  by  Lis- 
franc  is  a  flourish  of  bludgeons  and  daggers;  he  lashes 
Velpeau  and  Roux,  and  even  stabs  Dupuytren  in  his 
winding-sheet,  but  he  has  as  many  lashes  in  return."  In 
one  of  his  lectures  Lisfranc  called  Dupuytren  "  le  brigand  " 
and  "  l'infame  du  bord  de  l'eau,"  with  other  epithets  quite 
as  abusive ;  while  the  latter  replied  by  pouring  forth  a  tor- 
rent of  stinging  vituperation,  saying,  among  other  things, 
"  que  sous  une  enveloppe  de  sanglier  on  portait  parfois 
un  cceur  de  chien  couchant."  One  was  reminded  of  a 
band  of  gladiators  fiercely  contending,  Paris  serving  as 
their  arena,  and  the  whole  globe  as  their  amphitheatre. 
The  prominence  of  their  position  and  that  sotte  vanite, 
which  has  always  been  so  characteristic  of  their  nation, 
stimulated  them  to  ever  fresh  efforts,  for  the  display  of 
which  the  metropolis,  that  grand  focus  upon  which  the 
whole  light  of  Europe  was  then  brought  to  bear,  offered 
a  splendid  stage.  Each  blew  his  own  trumpet  so  loudly 
that  the  whole  continent  resounded  with  its  sonorous 
tones.  Their  inordinate  eagerness  to  dazzle  and  capti- 
vate by  nimble  tours  de  main  and  theatrical  eclat,  and 
thus  to  impress  mankind  with  a  sense  of  their  superiority, 
was  indescribable.  From  this  resulted  a  frightful  loss  of 
life,  as  the  patient  was  often  sacrificed  to  the  splendor 
of  the  operation.  In  view  of  the  actual  facts,  one  must 
regard  as  mildness  itself  the  comment  of  an  eminent  Eng- 
lish surgeon  that  "  a  little  more  regard  for  the  dictates 
of  humanity  and  a  little  less  desire  for  applause  would 
have  been  better  for  mankind."  They  cut  up  their  vic- 
tims as  they  cut  up  each  other,  coldly,  cruelly,  recklessly ; 


84  JONATHAN   MASON"   WARREN. 

and  death  brought  a  welcome  repose  to  those  whom  they 
sacrificed.     Writing  from  Paris,  Dr.  Warren  observed:  — 

"  More  than  two  thirds  of  their  patients  die  after  amputation. 
This  I  attribute  entirely  to  their  mode  of  dressing,  which  in 
most  instances  consists  in  stuffing  the  wound  with  lint,  and 
preventing  it  from  healing  by  the  first  intention.  When  this 
is  not  done,  the  number  of  ligatures  produces  the  same  effect ; 
and  many  die  after  leaving  the  hospital,  worn  out  by  the  length 
of  the  cure.  It  seems  to  be  rather  an  object  to  study  the  nat- 
ural history  of  disease,  and  to  perform  an  operation  beautifulty, 
than  to  save  the  life  of  the  patient." 

Soon  after  his  arrival  in  Paris  Dr.  Warren  thus  referred 
to  Dupuytren,  the  chief  surgeon  of  the  Hotel  Dieu  .*  — 

"  His  operations  are  always  brilliant,  and  his  diagnosis  some- 
times most  extraordinary.  He  is  one  of  the  most  suspicious 
persons  I  ever  encountered.  He  is  continually  seeking  to  con- 
vince us  that  he  is  a  great  man,  and  that  we  do  not  sufficiently 
value  his  talents.  He  likes  much  to  make  a  show,  and  gener- 
ally talks  during  the  whole  operation." 

At  a  later  date,  when  speaking  of  another  distinguished 
surgeon,  he  says :  — 

"  Roux  has  gone  to  Italy,  having  completely  quartered  an 
old  man  of  about  seventy,  while  operating  on  a  tumor  of  the 
shoulder  joint,  which  Dupuytren  had  refused  to  undertake.  In 
general,  I  decline  to  criticise  the  work  of  great  men,  who  are 
often  most  unjustly  attacked ;  but  the  performances  of  Roux, 
which  depend  entirely  on  a  desire  to  operate  without  the  least 
consideration  of  the  case,  seem  to  me  fair  game.  This  patient 
died  an  hour  after  the  operation.  Without  it  he  would  prob- 
ably have  lived  five  or  six  years  longer."1 

1  The  ostentation  of  some  of  these  illustrious  surgeons  surpassed  belief,  and  their 
self-conceit  might  have  been  envied  by  Malvolio  himself.  One  of  them  said  in  the 
presence  of  Dr.  John  C.  Warren,  "  Je  couperais  mon  pere  en  deux  si  le  sang  ne 
coulait  pas ; "  and  it  was  wittily  and  plausibly  said  of  Chirac,  court  physician  to 
Louis  XV.,  that  "  entendant  parler  du  Lazare  ressuscite,  il  dit  d'un  air  sournois, 
'  S'il  etait  mort  de  ma  facon  ! '  " 

When  one  calls  to  mind  the  remorseless  cruelty  of  these  men,  it  is  truly  refresh- 
ing to  read  a  remark  of  Velpeau  to  Dr.  John  C.  Warren  in  1837  :  "  Velpeau  ques- 
tioned me  on  the  subject  of  Hydrocele.     He  said  he  never  failed  with  injection,  and 


DUPUTTKEN.  85 

Unfortunately  in  many  cases  the  patients  were  pre- 
pared for  the  worst  by  the  treatment  to  which  they  had 
been  previously  subjected,  and  which  was  often  extremely 
cruel.     Said  Dr.  Warren  of  Dupuytren  :  — 

"  For  brutality  I  do  not  think  his  equal  can  be  found.  If 
his  orders  are  not  immediately  obeyed,  he  makes  nothing  of 
striking  his  patient  and  abusing  him  harshly.  A  favorite  prac- 
tice of  his  is  to  make  a  handle  of  a  man's  nose,  seizing  him  by  it 
and  pulling  him  down  on  to  his  knees,  where  he  remains,  half  in 
sorrow,  half  in  anger,  until  he  is  allowed  to  rise  and  describe  his 
symptoms." 

Of  the  various  eminent  surgeons  of  whom  Dr.  Warren 
saw  daily  more  or  less  during  his  studies  in  Paris,  the 
acknowledged  leader  was  Dupuytren,  who  was  the  prin- 
cipal manager  of  the  H6tel  Dieu,  the  largest  hospital,  —  a 
position  which  he  had  achieved  in  1815,  after  a  desperate 
struggle,  and  had  retained  ever  since.  He  was  termed 
by  his  countrymen  "the  Napoleon  of  surgery,"  and  for 
many  reasons  he  certainly  deserved  the  title.  He  was 
now  seated  on  the  proud  eminence  he  had  gained  with 
a  firmness  that  defied  all  rivalry.     He  towered  over  his 

that  we  were  butchers  to  practise  incision."  One  can  hardly  avoid  a  feeling  of 
satisfaction  at  the  death  of  Boyer,  whose  many  patients  would  seem  to  have  been 
partly  avenged  by  his  final  agonies  for  the  tortures  he  had  caused  them.  "  Boyer 
is  dead  after  three  days'  illness,"  wrote  Dr.  Warren,  under  date  of  Dec.  14,  1832. 
"  It  was  the  result  of  collapse  from  the  application  of  eighty  leeches  to  the  region 
over  the  kidneys,  for  the  alleviation  of  the  intense  pain  caused  by  the  passing  of  a 
calculus.  His  loss  will  not  be  much,  except  to  his  family,  and  will  be  hardly  felt  in 
the  surgical  world.  For  the  last  two  years  he  had  been  somewhat  blind,  and  his 
hands  were  not  very  steady,  though  he  still  continued  his  operations,  much  to  the 
suffering  and  mutilation  of  the  unfortunates  who  fell  into  his  hands." 

When  Dr.  John  C.  Warren  was  visiting  London  in  1838,  Sir  Astley  Cooper  told 
him  that  while  going  over  the  Hotel  des  Invalides  with  Baron  Larrey.  surgeon-in- 
chief  of  that  institution,  the  latter  observed  that  he  had  never  lost  a  case  of  ampu- 
tated shoulder.  Stepping  into  the  dissecting-room  shortly  afterwards,  Sir  Astley 
saw  a  man  lying  dead  with  his  shoulder  amputated.  "  What  was  the  cause  of  his 
death?  "  he  inquired.  "  Inflammation  of  the  lungs,"  replied  Larrey,  without  changing 
a  muscle.  "  Larrey  told  me,"  says  Dr.  Mott  in  his  "  Travels  in  Europe,"  "  that  he 
amputated  fourteen  arms  at  the  shoulder  joint  the  morning  after  the  battle  of 
Wagram,  and  performed  more  than  two  hundred  amputations  after  Austerlitz  ; " 
but  he  does  not  appear  to  have  informed  the  doctor  how  many  of  his  patients  sur- 
vived, and  the  latter  was  not  "  so  superfluous  to  demand." 


86  JONATHAN"   MASON   WAKREN. 

gigantic  work,  lecturing  daily  to  vast  throngs  of  students 
and  visiting  scores  of  patients,  with  herculean  energy  and 
robust  endurance.  He  began  his  labors  at  the  Hotel 
Dieu  with  the  dawn,  and  these  were  followed  by  a  lec- 
ture and  operations.  He  had  a  small  though  muscular 
figure,  a  fine  intelligent  face,  and  gray  hair.  In  the  hos- 
pital he  wore  a  white  apron  of  coarse  cloth.  Though 
really  callous  to  the  pain  of  others  and  generally  pitiless 
towards  those  upon  whom  he  was  about  to  test  his  skill 
in  the  use  of  the  knife,  there  were  times  when  he  played 
with  them  like  a  sleek  and  velvet-footed  tiger,  and  the 
most  endearing  epithets  flowed  over  his  lips.  "  Mon  bon 
garcon,"  "  Ma  belle  fille,"  "  Chere  dame,"  and  other  ten- 
der blandishments  would  then  glide  smoothly  forth,  as  it 
to  mitigate  the  keenness  of  his  instruments  and  soothe 
the  apprehensions  of  approaching  anguish.  Unhapjoily 
these  seldom  long  continued,  but  quickly  made  way  for  an 
excessive  irritability,  especially  if  the  victim  gave  unsat- 
isfactory replies,  or  in  any  other  way  excited  his  animal 
nature.  In  that  case  the  abuse  which  followed  proved 
the  thinness  of  his  apparent  sympathies ;  and  what  he 
failed  to  gain  by  flattery  he  extorted  by  the  terrors  of  his 
invective,  or  even  by  downright  blows.1 

In  his  real  character,  Dupuytren  offered  a  combination 
of  the  man  of  genius  and  the  savage.  He  was  of  the 
true  Napoleonic  type.  He  invariably  displayed  the  most 
audacious  and  systematic  contempt  for  the  truth.  He 
was  correctly  described  as  "  esclave  et  martyr  de  son 
ambition  et  de  sa  vanite."  His  motto  was,  "Peu  lire, 
beaucoup  voir,  et  beaucoup  faire."  Crushing  peremp- 
torily all  around  him,  he  was  sharp  to  detect  and  instant 
to  suppress  any  dawning  rivalry.  His  omnivorous  ambi- 
tion and  ceaseless  activity  left  little  for  any  one  else  to 

1  It  would  perhaps  be  only  just  to  impute  a  portion  of  these  failings  of  Dupuy- 
tren to  the  nervous  irritability  and  anxiety  which  would  naturally  follow  from  his 
prominent  position  and  the  great  responsibility  entailed  by  the  delicacy  and 
importance  of  his  operations. 


DUPUYTREN.  87 

glean.1  In  his  intercourse  with  the  students  he  was 
haughty,  disdainful,  tyrannical,  and  suffered  no  ques- 
tions. His  unbounded  self-esteem  led  him  to  despise  no 
means,  however  pitiful,  to  spread  his  fame ;  and  this 
quality  joined  to  his  avarice  resulted  in  many  acts  hardly 
dignified.  Thus  he  permitted  his  name  to  be  attached  to 
a  recipe  for  the  itch,  and  to  another  for  promoting  the 
growth  of  the  hair.  His  skill  and  fertility  of  resource 
were  matched  only  by  his  dexterous  manipulation  and 
the  perfect  control  he  ever  retained  over  his  nerves.  As 
a  lecturer  his  expositions  were  clear  and  precise,  with  a 
choice  of  expressions  often  elegant  and,  to  use  the  lan- 
guage of  his  biographer,  "  avec  un  tel  enchantement 
d'idees  que  tout  le  discours  semblait  dicte  par  une 
logique  superfine."  Of  him  Dr.  "Warren  wrote  in  1864  : 
Ci  He  was  by  far  the  best  lecturer  of  his  day  ;  delivering 
his  ideas  with  wonderful  clearness,  and  always  discussing 
questions  of  the  greatest  practical  importance."  Dupuy- 
tren  died  in  his  prime  like  an  exhausted  volcano,  the 
victim  of  labors  and  emotions  which  forbade  him  to  hope 
for  old  age.  As  to  glory,  there  was  nothing  for  him  to 
desire ;  and  the  same  might  be  said  as  to  fortune,  for  he 
left  three  millions  of  francs,  well  illustrating  the  ancient 
maxim,  "  Dat  Galenus  opes." 2 

From  the  correspondence  of  Dr.  Warren,  a  few  ex- 
tracts relating  to  Dupuytren  are  here  given.     They  will 

1  Journal  of  Dr.  John  C.  Warren,  Dec.  5,  1837  :  "  Dined  with  M.  Guerin  at 
Passy.  He  is  the  editor  of  the  'Gazette  Me'dicale.'  He  doubted  Dupuytren's 
veracity,  as  do  most  surgeons,  and  said  that  Dupuytren  was  engaged  to  marry  the 
daughter  of  Boyer,  but  on  the  evening  before  the  wedding  was  to  have  come  off, 
sent  a  note  of  refusal.  Boyer  allowed  his  friends  to  assemble,  read  the  note  to 
them,  and  then  celebrated  his  daughter's  escape  from  so  bad  a  man.  Dupuytren  is 
universally  execrated  for  his  private  character." 

2  Dr.  Warren's  Paris  journal  records  this  little  incident :  "  Dupuytren  is  now 
becoming  rather  careless  in  his  operations,  from  too  great  confidence  in  his  own 
powers.  He  was  brought  to  his  senses  the  other  day  by  an  accident  which  will  make 
him  more  careful  in  future.  While  operating  for  strangulated  hernia,  at  the  second 
cut  he  penetrated  directly  into  the  intestine.  Raising  his  head  with  great  coolness, 
he  said,  '  Voila,  messieurs,  la  matiere  fe'cale,'  and  without  another  word  quietly 
stitched  up  the  wound." 


88  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

be  found  interesting  as  studies  by  a  capable  observer 
of  a  man  whose  natural  talents,  indomitable  will,  and  un- 
tiring industry  impressed  themselves  upon  his  age  with 
a  depth  and  persistency  that  will  long  prevent  his  name 
from  falling  a  prey  to  oblivion. 

Paris,  Nov.  22, 1833. 
Dupuytren  has  been  seized  with  an  apoplectic  fit,  I  believe, 
however,  not  so  serious  as  to  threaten  his  life.  He  has  been  left 
with  a  paralysis  of  one  side  of  his  face,  the  mouth  being  some- 
what drawn  up.  He  has  had  leave  of  absence  for  six  months, 
and  has  left  Paris  for  Italy  to  spend  the  winter. 

March  30,  1834. 

Since  my  last  letter  Dupuytren  has  returned  to  Paris  in  per- 
fect health,  and  the  next  month  resumes  his  clinique  at  Hotel 
Dieu.  So  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  learn,  his  illness  came  on 
very  suddenly  with  the  ordinary  symptoms  of  apoplexy,  not  in 
a  serious  form,  and  left  him  with  one  side  of  his  face  slightl}' 
distorted.  This,  however,  soon  passed  off  after  he  left  Paris. 
Dupuytren  is  a  very  well  formed  man,  a  little  inclined  to  corpu- 
lency, with  a  short  neck  and  an  injected  face,  that  of  a  hon- 
vivant.  He  has  been  accused,  and  no  doubt  justly,  of  passing 
his  evenings  at  the  great  Hotel  (or  Cercle)  des  Etrangers,  the 
largest  private  gambling-house  in  Paris,  where  playing  is  carried 
on  to  a  very  late  hour.  According  to  the  state  of  his  temper 
the  next  morning,  his  students  are  informed  whether  he  lost  or 
won  on  the  previous  evening.  This,  at  least,  is  the  story. 
There  is  no  doubt  of  his  savage  disposition  at  times,  which  I 
usually  watched,  taking  good  care  not  to  follow  too  closely  upon 
his  heels,  as  I  have  seen  him  use  a  couple  of  Englishmen  very 
roughly,  who  had  inadvertently  pushed  on  to  him.  His  voice, 
when  he  chooses,  is  one  of  the  softest  and  most  harmonious 
imaginable  ;  and  by  a  person  who  saw  him  in  one  of  his  pleasant 
moods  addressing  his" patients  with  his  "Comment  vous  portez- 
vous,  mon  cher  ?  "  he  would  be  taken  for  the  most  amiable  of 
men.  If  anything,  however,  opposes  his  whims,  he  bursts  forth 
like  a  very  lion. 

To  his  private  patients  Dupuytren  is  another  man  from 
what  he  is  in  the  hospital.  Towards  them  he  displays  the  most 
perfect  politeness,  as  also  in  his  reception  of  strangers  ;  but  to 


DUPUYTEEN.  89 

the  latter  I  am  told  it  is  the  cold,  civil  politeness  of  duty.  I 
shall  go  to  see  him  as  I  do  a  curiosity  or  the  wild  beasts  at  the 
Garden  of  Plants,  and  not  with  the  hope  of  any  attention.  You 
mention  having  been  an  interne  of  Dupuytren,1  and  I  think 
37ou  must  have  seen  the  seeds  of  the  portrait  I  now  draw.  He 
has  made  a  very  prosperous  tour  in  Italy,  not  only  as  regards  his 
health,  but  from  a  professional  aspect,  as  patients  flocked  from 
great  distances  to  put  themselves  under  the  care  of  the  eminent 
French  surgeon. 

As  an  operator  I  have  never  thought  very  highly  of  Dupuy- 
tren. He  is  too  confident,  and  does  not  conduct  his  operations 
with  that  care  which  you  show,  nor  is  he  as  judicious  in  his 
treatment  before  and  after  the  operation,  nor  is  his  ultimate 
success  as  great  as  you  experience  with  your  patients. 

April  8,  1834. 
I  was  at  Hotel  Dieu  this  morning  to  hear  Dupuytren's 
second  lecture  since  his  return  from  Italy.  He  commenced  in 
the  same  slow  measured  manner  as  is  his  custom,  and  expresses 
himself  in  the  same  clear  way ;  but  to  a  person  accustomed  to 
him  there  is  a  certain  thickness  in  his  pronunciation  which 
shows  the  remains  of  his  disease.  In  his  walk  he  has  lost 
much  of  his  firm  commanding  carriage,  and  is  evidently 
greatly  enfeebled.  I  observed  also  that  he  wore  a  cloak,  — 
a  thing  that  he  never  did  before,  even  in  the  coldest  days  of 
winter,  always  coming  in  to  his  visit  with  his  coat  open  and 
no  outside  garment. 

April  28,  1834. 
I  called  last  week  on  Dupuytren,  and  was  received  by  him 
very  politely.     He  lives  in  a  very  nice  apartment  just  on  the 
Place  du  Louvre,  facing  the  Seine.     He  looks  much  better  in 

1  Dr.  John  C.  Warren,  in  his  "  Surgical  Notes,"  when  describing  his  Parisian 
experiences  in  the  year  1800,  remarks :  "  Dupuytren,  who  was  of  about  the  same 
age  as  myself,  but  much  more  advanced  in  science,  lived  under  the  same  roof.  .  .  . 
I  attended  one  of  his  first  courses  (it  might  have  been  his  very  first),  and  was  sur- 
prised at  the  minuteness  and  extent  of  his  knowledge  ;  but  I  was  not  suspicious  at 
that  time  that  he  was  destined  to  stand  at  the  head  of  French  surgery.  He  had 
great  natural  abilities,  but  he  owed  his  reputation  as  much  to  his  industry  as  to  his 
talents.  He  was  quick  in  his  perception,  determined  in  his  resolution,  and  unscrupu- 
lous in  his  operations.  He  necessarily  lost  many  patients ;  but  his  operations  were 
so  ingenious  in  plan  and  brilliant  in  execution  that  he  was  always  followed  by  a 
crowd  of  students  in  preference  to  other  operators." 


90  JONATHAN"   MASON   WARREN". 

liis  chambers  than  he  did  in  the  lecture-room.  Among  other 
topics  of  conversation  I  asked  him  if  he  had  ever  seen  any 
cases  of  dislocation  of  the  hip  behind  and  downwards.  He 
said  he  had, — two;  one  occasioned  by  the  man's  falling  from  a 
scaffolding  and  striking  the  foot  and  knee  (in  fact,  the  whole  leg) 
while  in  a  bent  position,  thus  driving  it  down  out  of  its  socket. 
Both  cases  were  reduced  immediately  after  the  accident. 

He  pleaded  his  feeble  health  as  an  excuse  for  not  showing 
me  the  attentions  he  otherwise  would.  I  of  course  told  him 
that  I  merely  expected  from  my  visit  the  honor  of  presenting 
my  respects.  Dupuytren's  sight  is  as  good  as  ever  ;  in  truth,  it 
is  a  remarkable  fact,  no  surgeon  that  I  have  encountered  in 
Europe  is  obliged  to  have  recourse  to  spectacles. 

Feb.  12,  1835. 

Since  my  last  letter  we  have  lost  our  great  authority  in  sur- 
gical science,  M.  Dupuytren,  who  died  the  day  before  yesterday, 
after  a  long  and  lingering  illness,  no  doubt  much  accelerated  by 
his  free  mode  of  life  and  the  violent  passions  to  which  he  occa- 
sionally gave  way.  He  retained  his  faculties  till  the  day  of  his 
death,  and  occupied  himself  in  dictating  to  his  friends  and  his 
physicians  the  disposition  he  wished  of  a  portion  of  his  property 
which  he  left  to  the  Medical  School,  and  also  of  some  of  his 
unpublished  papers. 

The  disease  of  which  he  died  is  not  yet  satisfactorily  stated 
in  the  journals,  but  we  shall  probably  have  in  the  "  Medical 
Gazette  "  of  this  week  a  detailed  account  of  his  autopsy.  It 
seems  that  the  heart  was  diseased,  and  the  remains  of  the 
epanchement  which  caused  the  attack  of  apoplexy  in  the  spring 
were  found  in  the  brain,  and  some  calculi  in  the  bladder  and 
kidneys.  He  did  not  allow  any  person  to  know  what  his  exact 
state  was  ;  and  it  is  said  that  until  the  last  daj^s  of  his  life  no  one 
knew  whether  he  was  to  die  or  get  well,  as  he  put  on  a  feigned 
appearance  when  visited  by  his  physicians,  thus  carrying  out  to 
the  end  his  stern  independence  and  eccentric  disposition.  By 
his  will  he  has  left  the  great  bulk  of  his  property,  seven  or  eight 
millions,  to  his  daughter,  an  only  child,  married  to  a  peer  of 
France  ;  200,000  francs  for  the  foundation  of  a  chair  of  Surgical 
Pathology  and  for  a  museum  in  the  Ecole  de  Medecine ;  and 
300,000  francs  for  a  hospital  or  asylum  for  twelve  old  retired 
physicians.     It  is  said  that  he  suffered  much  during  the  latter 


DUPUYTKEN.  91 

part  of  his  life  from  noise  in  the  street  and  in  his  hotel,  there 
being  a  ball  in  the  room  over  his  head  the  night  preceding  his 
death.     This  was,  in  fact,  the  cause  of  his  bequest. 

His  funeral  took  place  yesterday,  and  was  attended  by  the 
professors  and  nearly  all  the  students  of  the  School  of  Medicine. 
The  students  on  the  way  to  Pere  la  Chaise  took  the  horses  from 
the  hearse,  and  dragged  it  themselves  to  the  tomb.  At  present 
I  see  no  one  who  can  at  all  aspire  to  his  place.  His  lectures  on 
surgical  pathology  were  unique,  and  I  have  never  heard  any 
person  attempt  to  treat  the  subject  in  the  manner  which  he  has 
introduced  into  his  clinique.  It  is  said  that  before  he  died  he 
sent  for  Lisfranc  and  Richerand,  his  old  enemies,  and  made 
friends  with  them.  Whether  this  be  true  or  not,  I  am  ignorant. 
Lisfranc,  however,  in  his  lepons  has  of  late  quoted  Monsieur 
Dupuytren,  —  a  thing  which  he  has  never  done  before.  Dupuy- 
tren's  life  seems  to  have  been  passed  perhaps  as  bitterly,  consid- 
ering the  illustrious  place  he  has  attained,  as  can  possibly  be 
imagined.  He  had  few  friends,  — no  doubt  from  the  repulsive 
manners  which  belonged  to  him,  produced  by  the  battles  for 
distinction  and  the  domestic  troubles  at  the  commencement 
of  his  career. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

LIGHTS   OF   THE    SUKGICAL    PROFESSION    IN    PARIS    HALF   A 

CENTURY    AGO. 

Almost  the  equal  of  Dupuytren  in  many  respects,  and 
certainly  the  nearest  to  him  in  rank  and  parts,  was  Lis- 
franc.  He  was  at  the  head  of  the  Hospital  of  La  Pitie, 
and  even  went  beyond  his  great  rival  in  the  inflated  ego- 
tism, the  fulsome  self-praise,  and  the  caustic  detraction 
of  others  which  pervaded  his  lectures  and  his  writings. 
Quick  to  assert  his  rights  and  to  proclaim  his  wrongs,  he 
was  one  to  give  and  to  receive  hard  knocks  without  winc- 
ing. His  coolness  and  self-control  were  marvellous.  "  Au 
milieu  du  sang  verse  et  quels  que  fussent  les  cris  du  pa- 
tient, il  restait  calme  et  judicieux,  maitre  de  lui-meme  et 
du  peril."  He  had  a  decided  taste  for  blood,  and  liked  to 
welter  in  it,  none  the  less  that  he  had  been  through  sev- 
eral of  Napoleon's  sanguinary  campaigns  with  distinction. 
He  would  have  taken  charge  of  a  guillotine  with  perfect 
composure.  He  was  a  great  phlebotomist,  and  Dr.  Holmes 
writes  that  he  "  saw  him  one  morning  order  ten  or  fifteen 
to  be  bled."  His  knowledge  of  surgical  anatomy  was 
wonderfully  exact.  In  this  even  Dupuytren  was  not  his 
superior.  The  impression  made  on  the  students  by  his 
exquisitely  delicate,  swift,  and  effective  touch  was  dazzling 
and  overpowering.     Says  Dr.  Warren  :  — 

"  His  amputations  of  fingers  and  toes  are  very  neat  and  rapid, 
and  all  his  operations  are  marked  by  a  kind  of  off-hand  way, 
not  premeditated,  but  depending  entirely  on  the  state  of  the 
disease  for  the  extent  to  which  he  carries  them.     I  have  seen 


LISFRANC.  93 

him  work  away  on  a  cancer  of  the  eye,  chiselling  the  hones  of 
the  head,  till  I  expected  every  instant  to  see  a  part  of  the  brain 
make  its  appearance." 

Even  Lisfranc's  enemies,  of  whom  there  was  no  lack,  ad- 
mitted that  on  this  field  he  held  his  own  without  a  peer. 
In  a  subsequent  letter  Dr.  Warren  writes :  — 

"  I  have  finally  decided  to  follow  Lisfranc  rather  than  Vel- 
peau,  as,  though  probably  not  so  scientific  as  the  latter,  he  is 
much  more  original,  and  a  vast  deal  of  practical  knowledge  is  to 
be  gained  from  his  lectures.  I  have  just  made  an  arrangement 
with  one  of  Lisfranc's  internes  to  visit  and  take  cases  in  his 
wards  during  the  afternoon,  as  the  number  of  students  is  so 
great  in  the  morning  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  get  near  the 
beds,  and  quite  so  to  follow  the  cases.  I  pass  from  three  to  four 
in  Louis'  wards,  and  from  that  time  till  five  in  those  of  Lisfranc, 
so  that  between  the  morning  and  the  evening  visits  a  good  part 
of  the  day  is  spent  at  La  Pitie." 

Like  Dupuytren,  Lisfranc  also  made  his  advent  at  the 
hospital  with  the  dawn.  His  aspect  must  have  given 
scanty  comfort  to  those  who  were  expecting  him,  the 
more  so  that  to  the  fearful  suggestions  of  the  surgical 
white  apron  he  added  the  further  horror  of  a  black  cap. 
Take  him  for  all  in  all,  he  was  a  spectacle  for  men,  and 
might  have  startled  even  the  ancient  gods.  He  would 
have  been  an  admirable  subject  for  the  pencil  of  Gavarni. 
He  was  of  lofty  stature,  big  and  burly.  One  who  saw  him 
on  his  way  to  his  daily  duties  thus  delineates  him  :  — 

"  His  head  covered  with  a  rusty  black  and  red  cap  in  the 
shape  of  a  teacup,  which  stuck  like  a  plaster  to  the  summit  o± 
his  crown  ;  his  long-waisted,  scanty,  snuff-colored  coat,  dang- 
ling about  his  heels,  and  tapering  away  to  sharpness  like  the  tail 
of  a  kite ;  his  curiously  contrived  pantaloons,  loose  and  bagging 
about  his  hips,  and  at  each  stride  fluttering  to  the  wind;  his 
long  shovel- shaped  shoes  scattering  the  pebbles,  as  he  walked, 
from  right  to  left ;  his  arms  standing  out  from  his  body,  like 
the  handle  of  a  pump,  conjoined  with  his  outstretched  flexible 


94  JONATHAN  MASON"   WAKKEN. 

neck,  which  swung  to  and  fro  beneath  the  pressure  of  his 
lengthy  and  wedge-shaped  visage, — presented  one  of  the  most 
ludicrous  spectacles  I  ever  beheld." 

That  every  sentence  which  came  forth  from  a  form 
thus  striking  should  make  a  decided  impression  on  all 
who  heard  him  is  not  remarkable ;  and  they  certainly 
gave  a  deeper  meaning  to  the  loud  and  boisterous  tones 
in  which  this  son  of  thunder  clothed  his  energetic  teach- 
ings, to  his  fiery  denunciation  of  every  person  and  of 
everything  that  had  aroused  his  displeasure,  and  to  all 
the  merciless  rigors  that  gathered  around  his  bistoury. 
Unsoftened  by  age  and  unchanged  by  experience,  he 
stormed  on  till  the  end.  Writing  to  his  son  from  Paris 
in  1837,  Dr.  John  C.  Warren  observes :  — 

"  I  went  once  to  hear  Lisfranc  thunder.  He  has  the  most 
powerful  voice  I  ever  heard  from  a  lecturer.  He  speaks  ill  of 
everybody,  and  everybody  of  him." 

In  one  respect,  however,  he  did  yield  to  gentler  influ- 
ences ;  and  his  biographer  informs  us  that  "  II  finit  par 
avoir  un  autre  et  immense  merite  :  il  operait  peu,  et 
comme  a  son  corps  defendant." 

Dr.  Warren,  in  a  letter  to  his  father  written  in  the  spring 
of  1833,  records  his  impressions  of  Lisfranc  as  follows  :  — 

"  Lisfranc  is  a  great  rough  man,  six  feet  tall,  with  a  pleasant 
face  and  a  voice  like  thunder.  To  his  patients  he  is  a  perfect 
tyrant..  In  his  lectures  he  speaks  with  that  loud  style  and 
gesture  used  by  our  stump  orators.  When  any  other  man's 
ideas  come  into  collision  with  his  own,  he  gives  him  no  quarter, 
but  lavishes  upon  his  opponent  every  epithet  of  abuse  that  the 
language  affords,  and  this  in  a  most  satirical  tone.  To  stran- 
gers,  however,  he  is  said  to  be  the  most  polite  of  the  French 
physicians."  1 

1  At  a  later  date  Dr.  Warren  mentions  an  edifying  instance  of  Lisfranc's  style, 
and  of  the  amenities  with  which  it  was  his  habit  to  enliven  his  lectures. 

Alluding  to  the  ancient  opinion  that  a  fistula  could  be  cured  at  first  by  contrac- 
tion, this  Thersites  of  his  profession  remarked  :  "  Les  anciens  sont  des  animaux  et 
des  imbe'ciles  quand  ils  dirent  des  choses  de  cette  espece." 


eoux.  95 

In  striking  contrast  to  Lisfranc  was  Roux,  a  prominent 
and  tenacious  rival  of  his,  and  a  great  pillar  of  the  profes- 
sion. First  placed  over  the  Hospital  of  La  Charite,  the  sec- 
ond in  Paris,  he  finally  became  the  successor  of  Dupuytren 
at  Hotel  Dieu.  Antagonistic  in  every  other  sense  to  Lis- 
franc, he  cordially  agreed  with  him  in  hatred  of  the  sur- 
gical Napoleon,  whose  success  was  a  standing  reproach  to 
the  talents  and  ambition  of  both  of  these  contestants,  and 
spurred  them  on  to  ever  fresh  efforts  to  show  their  re- 
sentment and  undermine  his  influence.  That  Dupuytren 
held  his  position  so  long  against  the  combined  assaults  of 
two  such  foes,  can  be  regarded  only  as  a  further  proof  of 
his  abilities.  Roux  was  a  dapper  little  man,  straight  as  an 
obelisk,  and  very  active  and  nervous  in  all  his  move- 
ments. He  was  also  endowed  with  a  rosy  complexion,  a 
snub  nose,  and  eyes  that  gleamed  with  a  peculiar  twinkle 
of  sly  humor  and  satisfaction.  Enjoying  an  immense 
popularity  with  all  classes,  he  increased  this  by  courteous 
manners  and  a  winning  presence.  He  wrote  much  and 
well,  having  also  a  decided  literary  taste  and  culture 
beyond  the  usual  range  of  his  profession.  As  an  opera- 
tor he  was  bold,  neat,  and  quick,  to  a  degree  hardly  sur- 
passed by  any.  While  thus  engaged  he  rarely  spoke, 
though  at  other  times  chatty  and  communicative ;  in  this 
respect  the  opposite  of  Dupuytren,  who,  mostly  reserved, 
never  ceased  to  talk  while  his  knife  flashed  to  and  fro, 
winged  with  possible  death.  In  operations  for  cataract 
Roux  achieved  frequent  and  extraordinary  distinction. 
Dr.  Warren  heard  him  say,  in  June,  1833,  that  he  had 
performed  ninety  of  these  within  the  previous  fortnight. 
During  his  surgical  career  the  number  exceeded  three 
thousand,  —  "  chiffre  immense,"  as  his  biographer  justly 
remarks  ;  but  his  facile  brilliancy  was  of  little  benefit  to 
those  whom  he  treated,  as  most  of  them  eventually  lost 
their  eyes  through  the  negligence  and  inefficiency  of 
his  subsequent  management.     In  some  respects  he  was 


96  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEREN. 

favored  with  more  liberal  views  than  his  confreres;  and 
though  he  marked  his  path  with  many  bloody  steps,  and 
attached  slight  value  to  human  life,  he  was  not  averse 
to  possible  improvement.  In  the  address  above  quoted, 
Dr.  Warren,  speaking  of  the  practice  formerly  adopted  by 
French  surgeons  in  regard  to  the  healing  of  wounds  after 
an  operation,  says  :  — 

"  At  the  period  when  I  was  prosecuting  my  studies  in  Paris, 
M.  Roux  was  almost  the  only  surgeon  of  note  in  that  city  to 
break  in  upon  this  routine  of  irritating  dressings.  He  had 
visited  England,  and  had  there  seen  the  good  effects  of  the 
simpler  treatment  adopted  in  the  London  hospitals,  upon  which 
he  had  written  a  valuable  treatise." 

These  three  surgeons  were  the  most  conspicuous  in 
their  profession  as  operators  and  lecturers  at  the  hospi- 
tals, and  Dr.  Warren  naturally  saw  much  of  them.  For 
months  hardly  a  day  passed  when  he  was  not  in  attend- 
ance as  one  or  another  of  them  made  his  rounds  among 
the  patients.  The  work  they  did  was  showy  in  the 
extreme,  and  the  characteristic  dash  and  eclat  that 
accompanied  their  every  movement  were  most  dazzling 
to  a  surgical  neophyte.  With  an  eager  craving  for  im- 
provement and  an  entire  absorption  in  his  profession,  he 
followed  each  motion  of  their  magical  fingers  with  subtle 
appreciation,  and  treasured  it  up  for  future  use.  Their 
movements  were  stamped  upon  his  brain,  as  he  watched 
them,  keen-eyed,  — burnt  into  its  tissue  as  it  were,  —  with 
such  vivid  and  graphic  outlines  that  they  remained  in- 
delibly fixed,  and  he  could  afterwards  reproduce  them 
with  added  marvels  of  his  own  when  practising  his  pro- 
fession at  home.  But  in  spite  of  their  great  names  and 
the  prestige  that  had  spread  them  to  the  ends  of  the  earth, 
he  was  not  blind  to  their  defects.  No  one  saw  more 
clearly  than  he  those  petty  weaknesses  which  tainted 
their  exalted  positions,  and  injured   in   every  way  the 


CIVIALE.  97 

morale  of  all  who  came  in  contact  with  them.  Apart 
from  every  other  consideration,  Dr.  Warren's  own  tem- 
perament, his  self-respect  and  kindly  nature,  would  have 
forbidden  any  sympathy  for  that  fierce  abuse  of  each 
other,  that  mendacity,  that  perfect  indifference  as  to  the 
means  they  employed  for  their  advancement,  that  cruelty 
and  reckless  disregard  of  human  life,  for  which  they  were 
ever  noted. 

There  were  other  eminent  men  in  the  profession  for 
whom  he  felt  a  far  more  genuine  personal  interest  and 
nearly  as  great  admiration,  —  men  who,  no  less  talented 
than  these,  were  more  retiring  in  their  dispositions,  cared 
less  for  pomp  and  display,  and  held  themselves  gladly 
aloof  from  the  wild  turmoil  and  aggressiveness  of  the 
arena.  High  among*  such  ranked  Civiale,  than  whom 
none  enjoyed  greater  or  more  deserved  consideration 
from  the  entire  faculty.1  Once  a  poor  boy,  destitute 
of  all  resources  but  those  which  his  own  talents  might 
bring  forth,  he  was  now  at  the  height  of  his  glory, 
popular,  wealthy,  and  admired.  His  famous  memoir  on 
lithotrity  had  lately  been  read  in  the  Academy  of  Sciences, 
and  the  ingenious  improvements  he  had  made  were  ad- 
mitted to  be  more  valuable  than  any  yet  known.  The 
operations  he  daily  performed  were  of  astounding  dex- 
terity and  success.  The  skill  he  attained  was  almost 
miraculous.  Caring  not  the  least  for  effect,  he  wielded 
his  instruments  with  a  grace,  confidence,  and  delicacy 
heretofore  unseen  in  this  branch  of  surgery.  He  was 
only  eager  that  they  should  cause  no  pain,  and  often 
observed,  with  sympathetic  humanity,  "Grande  est  la 
crainte  du  bistouri."     To  him  belongs  the  honor  of  first 

1  Dr.  Warren  had  heard  much  of  Civiale  from  his  father,  and  felt  an  eager 
curiosity  to  see  him  at  the  earliest  possible  opportunity.  When  he  had  been  about 
three  weeks  in  Paris,  he  writes :  "  To-morrow  I  go  to  the  hospital  of  Civiale,  to 
whom  I  shall  deliver  my  letter  and  risk  my  French.  I  have  been  there  already 
once  or  twice,  but  did  not  happen  to  meet  him.  He  is  said  to  be  one  of  the  most 
gentlemanly  of  the  French  surgeons." 

•  7 


98  JONATHAN   MAS  OX   WAEREN. 

practising  this  operation  on  the  living  body.  His  method 
was  especially  appreciated  by  our  countrymen,  with  whom 
he  was  a  personal  favorite ;  and  they  composed  a  large 
majority  of  his  classes.  His  manners  were  most  agree- 
able, and  polished  to  the  extreme  of  affability.  To 
features  regular  and  peculiarly  attractive,  was  united  an 
expression  of  great  energy  and  decision,  in  which  a  pair 
of  jet-black  penetrating  eyes  took  a  prominent  part. 
He  rarely  spoke  without  a  gracious  smile  which  few  could 
resist.  He  was  rather  below  the  average  size,  stout, 
muscular,  and  well  proportioned.  With  his  other  ele- 
ments of  popularity  was  combined  a  generosity  which 
made  him  much  beloved ;  and  no  one  in  his  profession 
dispensed  with  a  more  abundant  liberality  the  wealth 
which  his  own  talents  had  acquired.  To  both  the  War- 
rens he  was  kindness  itself  from  the  beginning.  He 
advanced  their  interests  in  every  possible  way ;  and  when- 
ever he  had  an  opportunity  of  doing  either  of  them  a 
good  turn,  he  did  not  expand  into  frothy  verbosity  and 
elaborate  promises,  like  some  of  his  associates,  but  gave 
it  his  attention  forthwith.1  When  Dr.  John  C.  Warren 
was  in  Paris,  Civiale  testified  his  friendship  and  esteem 
by  every  form  of  ample  and  cordial  hospitality.  Dr. 
Mason  Warren  was  received  into  his  family,  and  favored 
with  an  intimacy  that  was  both  flattering  and  encour- 
aging from  every  point  of  view.     This  lasted  till  the  end 

1  Kind  as  were  many  of  the  prominent  surgeons  to  Dr.  Warren,  there  were  others 
at  whose  hands  he  fared  no  better  than  some  of  his  associates  when  presenting 
their  letters.  "  Dr.  Chervin,"  he  writes  in  March,  1833,  "  who  made  such  profes- 
sions when  I  visited  him  that  I  was  obliged  to  restrain  his  offers,  has  never  shown 
himself  from  that  day  to  this.  I  thought  at  the  time  that  here  at  length  was  one  man 
to  redeem  the  French  reputation  for  politeness ;  but  I  find  I  am  mistaken,  and  that 
they  deal  only  in  professions.  I  say  this  not  only  from  my  own  experience,  but 
from  that  of  numbers  of  my  friends,  who  after  having  delivered  their  letters  were 
turned  off  or  got  rid  of  as  soon  as  possible.  There  is  quite  a  distinguished  surgeon 
here  from  New  Orleans,  Dr.  Luzemburgh,  who  has  been  spending  the  winter  in 
Paris  with  his  wife.  He  presented  one  letter,  and  was  so  little  pleased  with  his 
reception  that  he  left  the  rest  of  his  introductions  at  the  door  with  his  card,  and  of 
course  heard  from  but  few  of  them  afterwards." 


CIVIALE.  99 

of  his  days ;  and  as  late  as  the  year  1854  Dr.  Warren, 
writing  to  his  father  from  Paris,  under  date  of  July  12, 
says  :  — 

"  Among  the  medical  men  here  the  principal  attention  I  have 
received  has  been  from  Civiale,  whose  kindness  has  been  un- 
bounded. He  expressed  much  gratification  at  seeing  me  again, 
and  immediately  asked  me  with  Anne  and  the  children  to  dine 
with  him  at  his  country-place.  On  Saturday  I  went  with  him 
early  to  an  operation  for  lithotrity,  and  afterwards  to  his  hospi- 
tal, where  he  delivered  a  very  interesting  clinical  lecture.  On 
Saturday  we  dined  with  him  near  St.  Cloud,  with  a  large  party 
of  medical  men  and  others.  On  Tuesday  he  took  me  to  the 
meeting  of  the  Academy  of  Medicine,  and  introduced  me  on  the 
floor,  my  presence  being  announced  by  the  President.  Here  I 
had  the  opportunity  of  hearing  a  very  sharp  discussion  between 
Amussat  and  Malgaigne,  the  latter  delivering  a  perfect  Philippic 
against  Velpeau  and  others  in  his  peculiar  style.1  I  think  I 
have  never  heard  such  an  orator,  more  like  what  we  have 
heard  of  John  Randolph  than  anything  else.  Civiale  yesterday 
presented  me  with  copies  of  all  his  own  works  which  I  did 
not  possess,  most  elegantly  bound.  He  has  asked  much  about 
you,  and  says  3rou  are  a  wonder ;  that  he  never  saw  so  active 
a  person."  2 

1  "  Ainsi  done,  Ies  eleves  perdent  en  M.  Malgaigne  un  professeur  eloquent  et 
plein  d'un  immense  savoir;  l'Ecole  de  rnedecine,  un  de  ses  plus  glorieux  mernbres; 
1'Acade'mie,  son  orateur  le  plus  penetrant,  le  plus  profond,  le  plus  brillant ;  la  sci- 
ence chirurgicale,  une  grande  et  belle  intelligence,  un  de  ses  plus  valeureux  cham- 
pions ;  la  France,  enfin,  un  de  ses  plus  laborieux  enfants ! "  Such  were  the  words 
—  and  they  seem  to  have  been  but  the  utterance  of  simple  truth  —  with  which 
Velpeau  concluded  his  oration  over  the  grave  of  his  former  adversary  in  October, 
1865.  It  was  a  masterpiece  of  spirited  eloquence,  noble  sentiments,  and  critical 
acumen ;  and  the  munificence  of  the  speaker's  tribute  served  a  twofold  purpose, 
for  it  not  only  held  up  before  the  world  in  a  vivid  light  the  talents  and  virtues  of 
the  dead,  as  they  had  revealed  themselves  to  one  whom  kindred  genius  and  long 
experience  had  endowed  with  ample  faculties  for  their  appreciation,  but  it  dis- 
played the  magnanimity  of  a  nature  which  scorned  to  withhold  the  meed  of  justice, 
even  from  an  enemy. 

2  Civiale  won  golden  opinions  from  all  sorts  of  people,  and  from  no  source  more 
abundantly  than  from  the  members  of  his  own  profession,  whose  jealousy,  so  clear 
was  he  in  his  great  office,  he  seems  never  to  have  aroused,  even  among  his  own 
countrymen.  Dr.  Valentine  Mott  saw  Civiale  in  Paris  in  1835,  and  thus  wrote  of 
him  :  "  But  the  Hospital  of  Necker  must  not  be  forgotten ;  for  here  resides  the  ever- 
illustrious  and  unrivalled  Civiale,  the  projector  and  the  author  of  that  greatest  of  all 


100  JONATHAN   MASON    WAEREN. 

Very  soon  after  Dr.  Warren's  arrival  in  Paris  he  called 
upon  Baron  Dubois,1  who  was  still  enjoying  a  serene  and 
vigorous  old  age,  after  a  life  of  hard  work  and  exposure 
to  manifold  risks  and  perils.  He  had  been  a  friend  and 
admirer  of  the  first  Napoleon,  and  had  shared  his  famous 
campaigns  in  Egypt  and  in  Italy.  Of  his  household 
Dr.  John  C.  Warren  was  a  member  for  more  than  a  year 
after  he  began  his  studies  in  Paris,  during  the  summer 
of  1801,  greatly  to  his  comfort  and  professional  progress, 
Dubois  being  then  at  the  head  of  the  Hospice  de  1'Ecole 
de  Medecine. 

Paris,  Nov.  27,  1832. 
My  dear  Father,  —  I  made  a  visit  a  few  clays  since  to  your 
former  instructor,  Baron  Dubois.     After  having  called  a  number 

triumphs  for  science  and  humanity,  of  that  master-innovation  in  the  treatment  of 
calculus,  the  operation  of  lithotrity.  How  much  pain,  how  much  agony,  has  not  this 
great  and  good  man  saved  to  his  fellow-creatures !  And  how  perfectly  in  keeping  with 
his  mild  and  unpretending  demeanor  and  his  benevolent  heart  has  been  the  victory 
he  has  gained  over  one  of  the  most  afflicting  and  excruciating  torments  which  it  is 
the  lot  of  mortals  to  endure  !  Civiale  is,  in  truth,  one  of  the  noblemen  of  our  profes- 
sion, in  all  the  charities  that  adorn  our  nature.  In  his  specialty,  of  all  the  men  I 
have  ever  seen,  for  delicacy  of  tact  and  adroitness  of  execution  he  surpasses.  It  is 
utterly  impossible  for  any  one  to  imagine  the  highly  finished  style  of  his  manipula- 
tions. I  have  often  remarked  to  the  pupils  of  our  country,  during  my  residence 
in  Paris,  that  a  visit  to  Civiale  would  alone  amply  compensate  them  for  their  jour- 
ney to  France,  and  that  it  was  worth  all  the  expense  to  a  young  man  to  learn  a 
lesson  from  him  ;  for  it  would  teach,  above  all  other  things,  what  apparently 
almost  insurmountable  obstacles  persevering  resolution  and  matchless  skill  in  the 
use  of  instruments  can  overcome." 

1  In  an  address  before  the  American  Medical  Association,  May  8,  1850,  Dr. 
John  C.  Warren  thus  refers  to  Dubois  :  "  Dubois  was  afterwards  Baron  of  the  Em- 
pire, Member  of  the  Legion  of  Honor,  and  a  great  friend  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon. 
The  emperor  employed  him  to  officiate  on  the  occasion  of  the  birth  of  his  son. 
When  a  difficulty  occurred  in  the  accouchement  of  the  empress,  and  Dubois  repre- 
sented to  Napoleon  that  she  would  not  be  relieved  without  the  application  of  con- 
siderable force,  Napoleon  immediately  replied,  '  Treat  her  in  the  same  manner  you 
would  a  bourgeoise.'  Dubois  was  an  admirable  operator;  and  I  found  it  a  great  ad- 
vantage to  pass  my  time,  while  in  Paris,  in  his  family,  and  in  the  hospital  in  which  he 
officiated.  His  operations  for  the  stone  were  performed  with  a  rapidity  so  great  that 
one  could  scarcely  follow  him  in  the  successive  steps.  The  knife  he  employed  was 
of  the  size  and  form  of  an  oyster-knife,  cutting  on  both  edges.  He  performed  the 
operation  for  the  extraction  of  cataract,  also,  with  wonderful  adroitness.  But  I 
remember  a  case  in  which  the  extraction  of  the  lens  was  followed  by  the  ejection 
of  the  whole  contents  of  the  globe  of  the  eye,  on  which  Dubois  very  coolly  said  to 
the  patient,  '  Mon  ami,  vous  avez  perdu  votre  ceil.'  " 


DUBOIS.  101 

of  times,  I  finally  succeeded  in  finding  him  at  home.  I  waited 
awhile  in  his  anteroom  before  he  made  his  appearance.  A  short, 
stout  man  at  last  entered,  dressed  in  small-clothes  and  boots, 
with  a  black  silk  nightcap  on  his  head.  He  took  my  letter 
without  saying  anything,  and  asked  me  to  come  into  his  study. 
I  told  him  that  my  father,  Dr.  Warren,  one  of  his  former  Sieves, 
was  desirous  that  I  should  call  and  inquire  into  the  state  of  his 
health,  etc.  He  asked  me  what  city  I  was  from,  and  on  my 
telling  him,  he  very  coolly  asked  me  to  sit  down,  and  placed  my 
letter  on  the  table  without  opening  it.  I  asked  him  if  he 
remembered  you.  "  That  is  the  reason  that  I  do  not  open  his 
letter,"  he  answered.  "I  have  always  inquired  of  every  person 
I  have  seen  from  America  how  Dr.  Warren  was ;  for  I  loved 
him  much,  and  I  am  very  happy  to  see  his  son."  He  then  asked 
me  to  dine  with  him  and  his  son,  who,  he  said,  spoke  English. 
He  frequently  corrected  me  in  my  French,  saying  that  he  took 
that  liberty,  "  car  je  vous  consid^re  comme  mon  fils."  I  went 
to  his  house  at  half-past  five,  and  found  him  seated  in  his  study, 
with  his  slippers  and  a  newspaper,  taking  his  ease.  His  son 
and  son-in-law,  both  physicians,  soon  entered,  both  of  them 
kissing  him  in  the  true  French  style,  calling  him  "  mon  petit 
papa."  We  had  a  very  agreeable  dinner  together,  the  old 
gentleman  leaving  the  conversation  entirely  to  his  sons.  I  was 
much  pleased  with  the  affectionate  style  in  which  they  treated 
him.  Dubois  at  present  practises  but  little,  and  that  in  partner- 
ship with  his  son.  He  still,  however,  lectures.  He  is  not  on 
good  terms  with  Dupuytren,  and  advised  me,  if  I  called  on  him, 
not  to  mention  his  name,  as  it  would  be  no  recommendation. 
This  jealousy  of  one  medical  man  for  another  is  a  thing  I  have 
remarked  throughout  Europe,  particularly  here  and  in  Edin- 
burgh. Hearing  Lisfranc  speak  of  Dupuytren,  you  would  think 
him  some  miserable  creature  who  had  escaped  the  gallows, — 
"le  brigand  de  la  Seine,"  as  he  commonly  calls  Dupuytren.  In 
Edinburgh  I  was  shown,  at  Liston's  Museum,  a  preparation  of 
the  bladder,  etc.,  with  a  bougie  pushed  through  the  middle  of 
the  urethra  and  entering  the  centre  of  the  bladder.  This  was 
stated  by  the  conductor  to  be  the  handiwork  of  a  surgeon  who 
lived  not  far  off  (Mr.  Syme).  Almost  the  only  man  I  have 
yet  seen  without  this  feeling  is  Sir  Astley  Cooper,  who  is  the 
proper  gentleman.     Dubois  gave  me  an  engraving  of  himself, 


102  JONATHAN   MASON    WARREN. 

taken  a  few  years  since,  and  much  more  like  him  than  the  one 
you  have,  which  I  told  him  you  preserved  with  great  care.  I 
left  him  with  an  invitation  to  breakfast  whenever  I  should  feel 
disposed. 

Shortly  before  quitting  Paris  for  home,  in  1835,  Dr. 
Warren  had  a  final  interview  with  Baron  Dubois,  who  had 
then  reached  the  good  old  age  of  seventj'-nine. 

"  I  called  on  old  Dubois  yesterday  for  a  farewell  visit.  He 
inquired  after  your  health,  and  desired  his  most  affectionate 
remembrances.  His  health  is  good,  and  he  looks  well  preserved. 
I  have  seldom  seen  a  more  mild  and  pleasant  expression  on  any 
countenance  than  that  of  Dubois.  When  taking  leave  he 
saluted  me  in  the  French  way,  on  both  sides  of  the  face,  apolo- 
gizing for  it  as  a  French  custom.  I  have  met  no  man  in  France 
who  has  interested  me  more  than  Dubois." 

Another  of  those  surgeons  of  Napoleonic  days,  now  the 
heroes  of  history,  who,  as  surgeon  in  chief  of  the  Grande 
Armee,  followed  the  great  conqueror  from  field  to  field 
and  from  victory  to  victory,  and  whose  skill  preserved 
many  ghastly  reminders  of  his  achievements,  often  but 
half  rescued  from  the  graves  into  which  they  might  have 
done  better  to  pass,  was  Baron  Larrey.  Across  the  burn- 
ing sands  of  Egj^pt  and  the  snowy  wastes  of  Russia,  to  the 
crowning  calamity  at  Waterloo,  where  he  was  wounded 
and  captured,  he  followed  his  leader  with  an  unsparing 
devotion  and  self-sacrifice  which  called  forth  the  warm- 
est expression  of  Napoleon's  friendship  and  approval, 
so  that  when  dying  he  bequeathed  a  final  souvenir,  "a 
l'homme  le  plus  vertueux  que  j'aie  rencontreV'  1  He  was 
now  at  the  head  of  the  Hotel  des  Invalides,  and  though 
nearly  seventy,  still  labored  with  the  sanguine  faith  and 
enthusiasm  of  youth,  yearly  publishing  valuable  memoires, 

1  The  form  and  stature  of  Larrey  strikingly  recalled  those  of  his  great  leader, 
and  he  was  wont  to  add  to  the  resemblance  by  wearing  the  identical  three-cornered 
hat  which  Napoleon  himself  made  so  famous,  and  which  he  gave  to  Larrey  with 
the  flattering  remark  that  "  it  seemed  to  fit  him  best." 


LAEREY.  103 

rich  with  suggestions  of  decided  promise,  which  flowed 
full  and  free  from  a  mind  ever  teeming  with  plans  for  the 
alleviation  of  human  misery. 

Paris,  Nov.  5,  1832. 

My  deae  Fathee,  —  I  made  a  very  pleasant  and  instruc- 
tive visit  a  few  days  since  to  the  Hotel  des  Invalides,  where  I 
attended  Larrey  in  his  rounds.  He  is  a  short  corpulent  man, 
with  a  very  agreeable  face.  His  hair,  which  is  gray,  falls  in 
curls  over  the  straight  ornamented  collar  of  the  military  coat 
which  he  wears  during  his  visits.  He  was  very  polite  to  Dr. 
Peirson,  who  was  introduced  to  him  by  an  Italian  gentleman, 
and  took  great  pains  to  show  us  all  the  remarkable  cases,  many 
of  which  he  referred  to  as  being  described  in  his  books.  He 
also  showed  us  his  case  of  amputating  instruments  which  he 
had  with  him  in  Egypt.  He  spoke  much  of  his  inventions  of 
different  kinds,  particularly  of  an  amputating  knife  with  a 
curved  blade,  which,  he  said,  cut  off  the  leg  more  expedi- 
tiously, from  its  embracing  a  greater  surface. 

I  think  I  have  heard  you  state  in  your  lectures,  that  no  matter 
how  much  a  blade  was  curved,  nothing  was  added  to  the  celerity 
of  the  operation,  as  it  cut  only  on  one  point  at  the  same  time. 
Larrey,  however,  if  he  has  anything  he  thinks  his  own,  will  not 
give  it  up  for  anybody.     The  most  remarkable  cases  were  :  — 

1.  Lower  jaw  shot  off;  the  tongue  hung  down  upon  the 
front  of  the  neck.  To  remedy  this,  a  curved  plate  was  tied  to 
the  head,  having  a  silver  lip.  When  this  was  on,  the  man  was 
able  to  articulate  distinctly.  He  had  been  nourished  with  broth 
for  ten  or  fifteen  years. 

2.  Two  or  three  cases  of  disarticulation  at  the  shoulder- 
joint,  with  a  beautiful  union.  One  of  the  cases  had  been 
operated  on  two  days  previous,  and  was  doing  well.  Baron 
Larrey  showed  us  a  case  of  neuralgia  of  the  arm,  from  amputa- 
tion having  been  performed  too  low  down.  The  flap  is  not 
sufficient,  and  the  cicatrix  presses  on  the  bone.  He  says  he  has 
seen  a  number  of  cases  like  this,  and  the  best  remedy  is  to 
amputate  again.  He  is  very  fond  of  the  hot  iron.  I  saw  him 
apply  it  to  a  large  ulcer  of  the  leg,  forming  an  eschar  over  the 
whole.  He  stated  that  he  had  wrought  some  wonderful  cures 
in  erysipelas  of  the  face  by  passing  the  iron  over  the  whole 
surface.     The  patients  were  cured  in  twenty-four  hours,  but  he 


104  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEREN. 

did  not  say  how  their  faces  looked  after  the  operation.  He 
showed  us  a  case  of  cataract  in  which  the  man  had  been  totally 
blind,  but  had  been  restored  to  sight  by  applying  moxas  to  the 
back  of  the  neck.1  From  this  he  inferred  that  cataract  always 
depended  on  inflammation  of  the  capsula.  I  did  not  see  him 
operate,  but  intend  to  go  there  again  for  the  purpose. 

Dupuytren,  Lisfranc,  and  Eoux  were  at  this  period 
the  brightest  stars  in  that  constellation  of  illustrious 
names  which  shed  their  light  upon  the  golden  age  of 
French  surgery.  Their  characteristics,  professional  and 
other,  have  been  here  given  at  some  length,  from  the 
fact  of  their  close  connection  with  Dr.  Warren,  and  the 
prominent  part  they  took  in  moulding  his  luture  career. 
There  were,  also,  many  others  hardly  less  renowned  than 
they,  whose  instructions  he  shared  at  intervals,  and  whose 
examples  influenced  him  to  a  certain  extent,  giving  tone 
to  his  mind  and  skill  to  his  hand ;  all  the  more  that  they 
were  for  the  most  part  equally  capable  in  surgery  and 
in  medicine.  The  great  majority  had  come  up  out  of  the 
rugged  turmoil  of  the  French  Revolution,  and  the  renown 
they  had  achieved  was  often  the  enforced  issue  of  stern 
necessity.  Being  as  it  were  the  offspring  of  chaos,  they 
may  be  the  more  readily  excused  for  the  perpetual  com- 
bat in  which  they  lived.  Such  were  Velpeau,2  the  son 
of  a  village  blacksmith,  now  Professor  of  Clinique  at  La 
Pitie,  —  a  world-wide  celebrity,  able,  eloquent,  persuasive, 
who  had  fought  his  way  up  to  that  proud  height  through 
every  possible  pain  and  hardship ;  Sanson,  of  the  same 
hospital,    almost    equally   distinguished;    Marjolin,    first 

1  Edward  Everett,  in  a-note  written  a  fewx  months  before  his  death  to  Dr. 
Warren,  expresses  a  sentiment  which  will  doubtless  meet  with  the  approval  of 
all  who  have  had  their  attention  directed  to  the  great  deeds  of  surgery :  "  When  I 
consider  the  horrid  things  you  surgeons  have  to  do,  I  do  not  wonder  that  the 
patient  sometimes  dies,  but  that  the  surgeon  ever  lives." 

2  "  A  friend  of  mine  a  few  days  since  introduced  me  to  Velpeau,  with  whom  I 
was  much  pleased.  He  is  well  acquainted  with  your  operations,  some  of  which  he 
had  published  in  his  '  Traite  d'Anatomie  chirurgicale.' "  —  Dr.  Warren  to  his  father, 
March  12,  1834. 


MAKJOLItf.  105 

notary,  then  dragoon,  now  in  charge  of  the  Hospital 
Beaujon  ;  Cloquet ;  Leroy  d'Etiolles ;  Amussat ;  and  a  score 
of  others,  who,  glorious  in  their  day,  have  become  dim 
shadows  of  the  past  in  this.  Towards  Marjolin,  with  his 
"  cceur  gai  et  sa  figure  epanouie,"  with  his  easy-going 
manners  and  his  "  penchant  a  la  camaraderie," — Marjolin, 
the  jolly  friend  and  patron  of  young  physicians,  —  Marjo- 
lin, who,  famed  throughout  the  kingdom  for  his  surgical 
attainments,  yet  derived  an  income  of  a  hundred  thousand 
francs  per  annum  from  attending  upon  the  bilious  and 
hysterical  fine  ladies  of  Paris,  —  Dr.  Warren  felt  a  peculiar 
partiality.  Under  date  of  Nov.  22,  1833,  he  informs  his 
father :  — 

"The  lectures  which  I  have  chosen  at  the  School  of  Medicine 
are  those  of  Andral  and  Marjolin.  Those  of  the  latter  on  sur- 
gical pathology  are  without  exception  the  most  thorough  and 
the  most  practical  of  any  I  have  yet  heard.  Marjolin  is  now 
one  of  the  first  consulting  surgeons  in  Paris,  and  has  stored  up 
a  vast  amount  of  facts." 

Three  months  later  he  adds  :  — 

"  Marjolin's  course  continues  interesting.  He  has  just  finished 
the  surgical  diseases  of  the  eye,  and  come  to  those  of  the  nose. 
Speaking  of  rhinoplastie,  he  rather  disapproves  of  the  operation. 
He  says  he  has  seen  one  or  two  noses  assez  naturels  ;  others 
like  tubercles  in  the  centre  of  the  face ;  others,  again,  which, 
having  survived  the  operation  without  falling  into  gangrene, 
turned  black  and  fell  off  at  the  first  cold,  the  circulation  in 
them  having  been  unable  to  withstand  the  change  in  the  tem- 
perature. Pour  lui,  he  says,  he  should  prefer  an  artificial 
nose.1     These  are  made  so  well  in  France  as  scarcely  to  be 

1  With  this  conclusion  Dr.  Warren  seems  not  to  have  agreed,  as  subsequent 
events  proved.  His  father's  "  Surgical  Notes  "  inform  us  that  "  in  1838  a  patient 
applied  to  Dr.  Mason  Warren  to  perform  an  autoplastic  operation  for  him.  He 
undertook  it,  and  with  so  much  success  that  the  individual  has  rather  an  aquiline 
nose  than  otherwise.  Since  then  he  has  done  the  same  operation  with  great  success 
in  various  cases ;  how  many,  I  cannot  exactly  tell.  In  one  case  he  restored  the 
nose  by  a  portion  of  skin  from  the  arm  of  the  patient.  The  operation  succeeded 
in  a  very  satisfactory  way,  but  the  patient's  distress  from  the  posture  she  was 
obliged  to  retain  was  so  very  great  that  he  determined  never  to  employ  this  mode 
again."    Dr.  Warren  appears  to  have  bestowed  especial  care  upon  this  branch  of  his 


106  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

recognized  ;  and  he  mentioned  the  case  of  a  medical  student 
with  whom  he  dissected  for  ten  days  without  discovering  any- 
thing unnatural,  until  the  young  man,  being  obliged  to  use  his 
handkerchief,  seized  the  end  of  his  nose,  turned  it  aside,  per- 
formed the  necessary  operation,  and  restored  it  to  its  natural 
place,  the  nose  being  attached  by  a  kind  of  hinge." 

There  was  still  another  class  of  eminent  practitioners 
whose  teachings  Dr.  Warren  followed  with  interest  and 
profit,  giving  them  such  time  as  he  could  snatch  from  the 
more  comprehensive  and  absorbing  demands  of  the  great 
masters  of  his  profession.  They  were  the  specialists,  who 
had  limited  their  chief  investigations  to  one  particular 
branch  of  study,  in  which  their  researches  had  made  them 
famous.  Among  these  were  Bicord,  of  the  Hopital  des 
Veneriens;  Serres,  the  anatomist;  Qrfila,  who  had  achieved 
such  renown  through  his  chemical  investigations ;  Sichel, 
"l'oculistele  plus  repandu  de  Paris;"1  Dumeril  and  Blain- 
ville,  the  eminent  naturalists,  the  latter  Cuvier's  adjunct 
professor ;  and  others  whose  names  might  be  mentioned. 

Dr.  Warren,  while  in  Paris,  kept  a  sort  of  surgical 
journal,  in  which  he  wrote  out  copious  and  minute 
descriptions  of  the  principal  operations  which  he  saw 
done  by  the  most  eminent  French  surgeons.  This  is  still 
extant,  and  bears  abundant  testimony  to  the  painstaking, 
enthusiastic  devotion  at  this  time  bestowed  upon  his  pro- 
fession. The  first  case  entered  in  this  journal,  under  date 
of  Nov.  19,  1832,  is  here  given.  It  is  peculiarly  interest- 
ing, as  the  result  of  a  pistol-shot,  described  by  one  who 

profession  from  the  beginning.  Shortly  after  his  arrival  in  Paris  he  sends  to  his 
father  a  long  and  minute  account  of  several  operations  of  this  nature  which  he  had 
just  seen  done  by  Dieffenbach,  the  celebrated  German  professor,  who  had  already 
reconstructed  over  one  hundred  patients  with  various  effect.  He  humorously 
concludes  :  "  I  am  not  aware  whether  a  nose  can  be  made  according  to  the  will  of 
the  patient  with  any  particular  expression,  though  I  learn  from  one  of  my  friends 
that  it  assumes  at  different  periods  of  the  treatment  different  characters,  and  the 
nez  oryueilleux,  the  nez  de'daigneux,  the  nez  spirituel,  successively  present  themselves." 
1  "March  14,  1833.  —  Yesterday  I  attended  a  soiree  at  the  house  of  Dr.  Sichel, 
the  only  professed  oculist  in  Paris.  He  is  a  German,  speaks  English,  and  is  married 
to  a  Scotch  lady.    Four  languages  were  spoken,  and  not  a  Frenchman  present." 


LOUIS.  107 

afterwards  showed  much  skill  in  the  treatment  of  wounds 
from  this  source,  and  finally  published  a  work  that  gave 
his  own  large  experience  in  this  branch  of  surgery. 

"Hotel  Dieu,  Nov.  19,  1832.—  Case  of  Pistol-shot  — A  young 
man,  having  determined  to  destroy  himself,  procured  a  pistol, 
and  having  loaded  it,  placed  it  directly  in  the  centre  of  the  fore- 
head and  discharged  it.  He  was  found  lying  on  the  floor,  a 
round  hole  in  the  forehead  through  the  skull,  and  the  adjacent 
parts  much  torn.  What  was  remarkable  was  that  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  patient  was  not  lost,  he  answering  distinctly  ques- 
tions put  to  him.  In  this  state  he  remained  two  days,  being  for 
the  greater  portion  of  the  time  aware  of  what  was  going  on, 
though,  while  he  saw,  heard,  and  spoke  distinctly,  the  sense  of 
smell  was  -entirely  lost.  Yesterday,  after  conversing  with  his 
friends  for  some  time,  he  was  taken  senseless,  and  shortly  died. 
This  morning  the  body  was  examined  by  M.  Dupuytren.  The 
ball  was  found  to  have  penetrated  both  tables  of  the  skull,  and 
then,  although  in  the  first  place  directed  upwards,  had  taken  an 
opposite  course,  and  after  wounding  the  cerebrum,  lodged  exactly 
in  the  centre  of  the  ethmoid  bone,  which  fully  accounted  for  the 
loss  of  the  sense  of  smell.     The  optic  nerves  were  uninjured." 

In  addition  to  this  striking  array  of  eminent  surgeons, 
a  large  part  of  whom  were  quite  as  distinguished  for  their 
knowledge  of  medicine,  there  were  many,  such  as  Louis, 
Bouillaud,  Chomel,  Fouquier,  Gendrin,  and  numerous 
other  professors,  who  practised  and  taught  almost  en- 
tirely as  physicians,  and  in  this  department  were  enjoy- 
ing well-earned  reputations.  Chief  among  these  was 
Louis,  the  famous  pathologist ;  and  to  him  Dr.  Warren 
resorted  at  once  on  his  arrival  in  Paris,  and  his  instruc- 
tions he  continued  to  follow  till  the  end  of  his  stay.  He 
admired  his  method  of  treatment  and  his  able  induc- 
tions ;  he  respected  his  vast  attainments,  while  his  personal 
character  and  example  excited  in  him  an  enthusiasm 
which  steadily  increased,  and  which  he  found  to  emanate 
from  none  other.  An  experience  of  six  months  led  Dr. 
Warren  to  write,  under  date  of  April  13,  1833  :  — 


108  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

"  The  greatest  pathologist  in  the  world  at  the  present  day  is, 
probably,  Louis.  His  manner  of  examining  diseases  and  his 
philosophical  method  of  teaching  have  a  most  wonderful  result 
in  showing  what  and  how  little  we  know  of  internal  pathology, 
and  point  out  the  only  true  way  to  arrive  at  satisfactory  results. 
This  is  by  numbering  cases.  The  effect  of  following  Louis 
properly  has  been  such  on  the  mind  of  those  of  my  acquaint- 
ance who  have  been  with  him,  that  this  alone  would  determine 
me  to  make  great  sacrifices  in  order  to  spend  five  or  six  months 
under  his  instructions,  as  I  think  the  principles  that  he  estab- 
lishes with  regard  to  medicine  can  with  great  advantage  be 
carried  into  the  study  of  surgery. 

"With  Louis  knowledge  comes  slowly,  and  requires  much 
reading,  as  it  is  supposed  in  his  observations  that  every  one 
who  follows  him  is  well  acquainted  with  the  subject.  On  this 
account  he  is  not  a  good  person  for  beginners  in  medicine  to 
attend ;  and  in  fact  his  students  are  mostly  English  or  Ameri- 
cans who  have  taken  their  degrees  of  M.D.,  though  this  may  not 
add  much  to  their  enlightenment,  as  the  subject  is  an  entire 
novelty  to  many,  and  several  of  the  diseases  he  examines  have 
never  been  diagnosed  in  our  country." 

Louis  possessed  an  eminently  handsome  and  striking 
person,  while  the  dignity  of  his  ^meanor  was  rendered 
more  winning  by  a  certain  blandness  of  manner  which 
swayed  every  act  and  movement.  The  charm  of  his 
presence  alone  was  felt  by  all  who  came  into  his  com- 
pany. Tall  and  upright,  his  somewhat  pale  face  bore 
the  traces  of  profound  study  and  reflection,  though  the 
affable  smile  by  which  it  was  often  lightened  revealed  his 
really  genial  and  sympathetic  nature.  Generous  and 
unselfish,  tender-hearted  and  assiduous  in  his  devotion  to 
the  interests  of  others,  he  deserved  the  praise  that  all 
were  quick  to  bestow  upon  him.  Full  of  every  kindly 
endeavor  for  the  good  of  his  race,  his  grand  and  all- 
embracing  philanthropy  knew  no  limits.  In  a  letter  to 
Dr.  James  Jackson,  Jr.,1  he  expressed  a  sentiment  which 

1  For  this  much  lamented  young  physician,  the  Lycidas  of  his  profession,  "dead 
ere  his  prime,  and  hath  not  left  his  peer,"  Louis  cherished  a  sincere  attachment,  and 


LOUIS.  109 

was  the  key-note  to  his  whole  life  and  to  the  motives 
that  influenced  him  from  the  outstart.  li  It  is  our  duty 
upon  earth,"  he  wrote,  "  to  use  our  faculties  in  the  best 
possible  manner  and  for  the  advantage  of  the  greatest 
number." 

Louis  was  endowed  with  an  intellect  of  the  highest 
order,  and  his  powers  of  generalization  were  such  as  ordi- 
narily are  possessed  by  none  but  the  ablest  men.  He 
was  the  most  careful,  impartial,  and  honest  observer 
that  his  profession  has  yet  known.  To  such  a  spirit 
the  dark  territories  of  pathology  in  his  day  offered  an 
illimitable  field  for  exploration.  Keen,  clear-headed,  and 
far-reaching,  he  was  capable  of  weaving  great  numbers  of 
facts  into  one  definite  result  and  rule  of  conduct.  He 
saw  the  need  of  a  fundamental  knowledge  of  structure, 
and  was  ambitious,  above  all  things,  to  enlarge  the  scien- 
tific rational  basis  of  his  profession,  and  to  reveal  new 
connections  and  facts  hitherto  hidden.  Eager  for  the 
truth,  and  aware  that  of  all  dangers  a  fallacious  certainty 
is  the  greatest,  he  was  always  seeking  for  more  light.  He 
was  quick  to  detect  error  in  any  guise,  however  plausible, 
and  dreaded  only  that  darkness  which  is  the  offspring  of 
bigotry  and  ignorance.  Lavish  of  self,  he  was  considerate 
of  others.     His  life  was  a  continual  lesson  of  courtesy  and 

an  affection  which  seemed  only  to  increase  as  the  years  passed  on,  and  deepened 
his  sense  of  the  loss  experienced  by  both  himself  and  the  whole  medical  fraternity. 
"Louis  is  on  the  most  intimate  terms  with  Jackson,  and  treats  him  like  a  son," 
wrote  Dr.  Warren  shortly  after  he  had  begun  his  studies  in  Paris.  Years  after  Dr. 
Jackson's  death,  Louis,  when  speaking  of  it  to  an  American  physician,  exclaimed : 
"Ah!  pauvre  jeune  homme,  pauvre  jeune  homnie !  II  fut  un  honneur  du  genre 
humain  ;  si  modest,  si  bon,  si  prudent,  si  affectionne'  et  si  obeissant ;  et  cependant, 
quoique  si  jeune,  il  possedait  tout  le  jugement,  la  sagesse,  et  la  connaissance  d'un 
age  mur." 

It  was  to  Louis,  "  who  was  regarded  by  the  subject  of  this  memoir  as  a  second 
father,  not  with  more  admiration  than  filial  respect  and  affection,"  and  to  Dr.  Boott, 
"  whose  bright  mind  and  pure  and  elevated  virtues  inspired  the  most  ardent  and 
sincere  love  in  his  young  friend,"  that  Dr.  James  Jackson  dedicated  that  sad  memo- 
rial of  his  son,  —  surely  one  of  the  most  deeply  affecting  tributes  ever  offered  by  a 
sincere  and  manly  soul  as  a  solace  to  blighted  hopes  and  to  parental  affection  that 
had  been  wounded  even  unto  death. 


110  JONATHAN"   MASON   WARREN. 

toleration.  Conscientious,  persevering,  judicious,  he  dis- 
dained the  noisy  din  of  controversy,  while  the  loud  clang 
of  anger  and  jealousy,  the  sharp  thrusts  of  spite  and 
malice,  only  excited  his  contempt.  Buoyed  up  by  noble 
aims  and  a  conscious  beneficence,  none  envied  him  his 
progress  towards  that  sure  reward  of  which  he  enjoyed 
a  pleasing  foretaste  in  the  love  and  reverence  of  all  who 
knew  him. 

Such  was  the  man  to  whom  Dr.  Warren  betook  himself 
before  he  had  been  a  week  in  Paris,  and  whose  steps 
he  continued  to  follow  with  unswerving  allegiance  and 
steadily  increasing  confidence  for  three  years.  From  no 
other  of  his  Parisian  teachers,  it  is  safe  to  say,  did  he 
derive  more  permanent  profit  or  greater  encouragement 
in  his  studies.  He  yielded  at  once  to  the  contagion  of  his 
enthusiasm  and  to  the  inspiration  of  an  example  which 
drew  him  ever  onwards.  From  him  he  derived  much  of 
that  maturity  of  thought,  that  compactness  and  solidity 
of  idea,  that  self-confidence,  born  of  well-defined  truth 
and  patient  research,  which  distinguished  him,  and  en- 
abled him  to  impress  on  others  a  sense  of  the  merits 
daily  and  almost  unconsciously  absorbed  from  his  instruc- 
tor. From  him  he  learned,  above  all  things,  to  hesitate 
at  no  labor  and  spare  no  effort  till  he  too  became  a  master 
of  his  art.  Strong  in  his  strength  and  urged  by  every 
worthy  motive,  he  moved  resolutely  on,  pressing  from 
better  up  to  best,  and  well  aware  of  the  truth  so  clearly 
set  forth  by  one  who  at  that  very  time  and  in  that  very 
city,  with  more  than  manly  toil,  was  forcing  a  path  to 
fame  through  darkness  and  tears,  through  poverty  and 
despair :  — 

"  Le  travail  constant  est  le  loi  de  la  vie,  et  j'eprouve  le 
besoin  pour  arriver  a  une  reputation  de  toujours  fa  ire 
mieux." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

LIFE  IN  PARIS. AMERICANS  IN"  EUROPE. PATERNAL  LET- 
TERS AND  ADVICE. PARISIAN  SUNDAYS. LE  RESTAU- 
RANT   FLICOTEAU. LES    TROIS    FRERES    PROVENCAUX. 

Dr.  Warren  had  much  reason  to  be  grateful  for  the 
associates  that  surrounded  him  during  the  whole  of  his 
three  years'  absence,  and  in  whose  company  so  large  a 
part  of  his  time  was  necessarily  spent.  The  coterie  of 
young  doctors  in  the  midst  of  whom  he  at  once  found 
himself  on  his  arrival  in  Paris,  were  many  of  them  from 
the  United  States,  and  not  a  few  from  his  native  city. 
With  some  changes  this  continued  to  the  end  of  his 
foreign  life.  Mostly  these  fellow-students  were  very 
agreeable  to  him ;  and  though  they  could  not  quite 
satisfy  his  craving  for  home  and  kindred,  they  did  much 
to  allay  it  for  the  time.  The  cordiality  of  their  welcome 
put  him  forthwith  on  the  easy  footing  of  friendship,  while 
united  interests  drew  him  and  them  ever  more  nearly  to- 
gether. Being  gentlemanly  in  their  manners,  sentiments, 
and  culture,  he  was  quickly  en  rapport  with  them.  They 
fairly  represented  the  best  blood  and  talent  of  their  own 
land.  Animated  by  worthy  motives,  their  influence  upon 
each  other  was  strong,  healthy,  and  inspiriting,  and  gave 
infinite  promise  of  future  good.  They  were  no  mean 
examples  of  the  results  that  had  already  accrued  from  the 
institutions  of  the  New  World,  —  of  its  youthful  vigor  and 
growing  aspirations.  They  would  have  been  regarded  as 
a  credit  to  any  country  by  all  whose  minds  had  not  been 
warped  by  jealousy,  blinded  by  prejudice,  or  contracted 
by  long  running  in  deeply  worn  and  narrow  ruts.     Dr. 


112  JONATHAN    MASON   WARREN. 

Warren's  friend,  Dr.  Greene,  who  arrived  with  him  in 
Paris,  long  remained  there  ;  and  so  also  did  Dr.  Henry  I. 
Bowclitch,  who  still  lives  to  show  the  strength  and  beauty 
of  the  structure  of  which  he  was  then  laying  the  founda- 
tions. From  another  friendship  Dr.  Warren  at  this  period 
derived  peculiar  pleasure.  Dr.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes, 
fresh  from  the  Massachusetts  Medical  School,  was  also 
pursuing  his  studies  in  France ;  and  a  congenial  humor, 
which  made  the  moments  glitter  as  they  passed,  joined 
to  mutual  ambition,  earnestness  of  purpose,  and  a  high 
ideal,  brought  them  much  together.1  Dr.  James  Jackson, 
Jr.,  whom  he  had  met  in  Scotland  and  elsewhere  during 
the  preceding  summer,  had,  with  this  exception,  been 
in  Paris  since  May,  1831.  In  his  society  Dr.  Warren 
felt  an  ever  new  delight,  and  was  soon  conscious  of 
that  attachment,  and  admiration  as  well,  which  he  sel- 
dom failed  to  elicit  from  all  who  came  within  the  range 

1  Of  the  gay  experiences  of  Dr.  Holmes  while  thus  nourishing  his  professional 
youth,  was  born  one  of  its  agreeable  souvenirs,  familiar  to  all  his  admirers  under 
the  title  of  "  La  Grisette." 

"Ah,  Clemence!  when  I  saw  thee  last 

Trip  down  the  Rue  de  Seine, 
And  turning,  when  thy  form  had  past, 

I  said,  '  We  meet  again,'  — 
I  dreamed  not  in  that  idle  glance 

Thy  latest  image  came 
And  only  left  to  memory's  trance 

A  shadow  and  a  name." 

This  appeared  in  the  first  collection  of  his  poems,  published  in  1836,  and  was 
doubtless  written  in  Paris  at  the  time  of  which  we  are  speaking.  It  still  retains 
the  bloom  and  flavor  of  that  early  and  auspicious  ripeness,  and  tends  to  show  that 
poets  do  not  always  "  learn  in  suffering  what  they  teach  in  song." 

In  the  light  of  subsequent  events  one  may  be  allowed  a  passing  comment  on  this 
verse.  In  spite  of  dreary  prognostics,  it  would  seem  that  it  was  the  poet's  ulti- 
mate fate,  when  the  sound  "of  the  grinding  was  low,  to  meet  his  friend  again,  and 
that,  of  all  places  in  the  world  !  on  the  Common,  —  sed  quantum  mutata  ab  ilia  ! 

"  My  ear  a  pleasing  torture  finds 
In  tones  the  withered  siljyl  grinds,  — 

The  dame  sans  merci's  broken  strain, 
Whom  I  erewhile,  perchance,  have  known, 
When  Orleans  filled  the  Bourbon  throne, 
A  siren  singing  by  the  Seine." 

The  Flaneuk.    Boston  Common,  Dec.  6,  1882. 


AMEEICAN    STUDENTS    IN   PAEIS.  113 

of  his  shining  example.  Dr.  Jackson  left  for  home  in 
July,  1833 ;  and  his  friend  parted  from  him  with  a  deep 
sense  of  loss,  though  both  were  fortunately  ignorant  of 
the  greater  grief  in  store  for  them.  Many  others  might 
be  mentioned,  were  there  space ;  but  these  will  suffice  to 
show  the  stuff  of  which  the  companions  of  Dr.  Warren  at 
that  time  were  made.  In  the  fall  of  1834  he  writes  from 
Paris :  — 

"  I  meet  here  a  number  of  fine  young  men  who  have  come 
out  since  my  journey  to  England.  Among  others,  young  Dr. 
Post  of  New  York,  a  very  gentlemanly  and  well-instructed 
pupil  of  Dr.  Mott ;  also  Dr.  Pierce  of  Philadelphia,  a  particular 
friend  of  Jonathan  Mason  ;  also  a  son  of  Dr.  Downes.  One  of 
Dr.  Wistar's  sons  is  daily  expected.  So  that  among  us  all  we 
make  a  good  representation  of  the  sons  of  the  medical  professors 
in  the  different  cities ;  and  it  is  very  interesting  thus  to  be  able 
to  compare  the  peculiarities  of  practice  at  home.  As  good  med- 
ical students,  desirous  of  availing  themselves  of  the  advantages 
offered  in  Paris,  the  Americans  stand  as  high  as  those  of  any 
nation  who  come  here,  and  they  are  surpassed  by  none,  either  as 
gentlemen  or  in  the  matter  of  education." 

Possessing,  as  they  did,  scholarly  sympathies  and  devo- 
tion to  their  work,  combined  with  courtesy  of  manner  and 
general  refinement,  these  young  men  held  a  position  that 
was  inevitably  conspicuous,  especially  from  the  obvious 
contrast  they  offered  to  the  views  then  commonly  preva- 
lent in  Europe  concerning  their  nation.  When  Dr.  War- 
ren first  landed  in  England,  with  his  intelligence,  his 
cultivated  taste,  and  that  decided  air  of  good  breeding 
which  speedily  made  him  acceptable  in  the  best  society, 
his  country  was  laboring  under  various  imputations  abroad, 
which,  though  deserved  in  certain  particulars,  had  been 
grossly  exaggerated  by  the  envy  of  some,  by  the  igno- 
rance of  others  lacking  the  means  of  detecting  the  truth, 
and  still  more  by  the  persistent  ill-will  of  various  writers, 
who,  knowing  better  than  they  wrote,  had  sought  a  path  to 
both  fame  and  profit  by  catering  to  the  general  prejudice. 


114  JONATHAN   MASON    WARREN. 

Thanks  to  several  travellers,  the  majority  of  them  English, 
who  had  crossed  the  Atlantic  within  a  few  years  for  the 
purpose  of  filling  their  baskets  by  raking  our  gutters,  our 
manners  and  morals  had  been  described  with  pens  sharp- 
ened by  spite  and  dipped  in  gall.  Mrs.  Trollope  had 
just  produced  her  three  famous  volumes  crammed  with 
ridicule  and  perversion,  which  were  to  line  her  pockets  at 
the  expense  of  her  veracity ;  and  her  countrymen  were 
enjoying  them  with  a  zest  to  which  there  was  no  draw- 
back. A  few  months  before  Dr.  Warren's  visit  to  Paris, 
the  "  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes  "  had  published  an  essay  of 
one  hundred  and  twenty  pages  entitled  "  Les  Moeurs  des 
Americains."  It  was  the  work  of  Jouffroy,  the  eminent 
metaphysician,  and  lately  appointed  Professor  of  Greek 
Philosophy  in  the  College  of  France,  whose  able  lectures 
Dr.  Warren  took  an  early  opportunity  to  attend,  as  has 
been  mentioned  above.  Taking  for  its  text  Mrs.  Trol- 
lope's  masterpiece,  this  essay  was  nominally  devoted  to  a 
critique  thereof,  though  it  really  served  as  a  vehicle  for 
not  a  little  abuse  that  was  wanting  to  her  pages,  —  fig- 
ments, in  all  probability,  of  the  author's  wonderful  imagi- 
nation, evolved  from  his  inner  consciousness  by  a  process 
more  creditable  to  his  ingenuity  than  to  his  love  of  truth. 
That  he  honestly  believed  what  he  wrote  one  can  hardly 
imagine,  and  we  are  led  to  infer  that  he  could  not  resist 
the  temptation  offered  by  a  subject  so  prolific  in  material 
for  wit  and  satire ;  but  whatever  may  have  been  the  pro- 
fessor's actual  opinions,  those  he  expressed  were  quite  in 
accordance  with  the  popular  idea,  and  there  is  every 
reason  to  conclude  that  Mrs.  Trollope  and  Monsieur  Jouf- 
froy together  are  entitled  to  the  credit  of  doing  much  to 
confirm  those  vague  and  derogatory  opinions  concerning 
America  which  were  so  extensively  held  at  that  time  and 
for  years  after. 

This  contribution  of  Monsieur  Jouffroy  appeared  in  the 
months  of  June,  July,  and  September,  1832.     Though  not 


MONSIEUE   JOUFFKOY.  115 

precisely  within  the  scope  of  the  present  memoir,  a  few 
extracts  from  the  article,  culled  at  random,  are  here  given, 
that  the  curious  may  have  some  idea  of  the  light  in  which 
this  nation  revealed  itself  to  one  of  the  most  intelligent 
minds  of  Europe  fifty  years  ago.  According  to  Monsieur 
Jouffroy,  in  the  United  States  — 

"  On  elit  une  religion  comme  on  choisit  un  metier,  et  si  on  n'en 
trouve  pas  a  sa  guise  on  s'en  passe,  ou  on  en  fait  une." 

"  En  Europe  un  cordonnier  reste  un  cordonnier  ;  en  Ame- 
rique  il  peut  devenir  chef  de  secte,  et  cela  sans  renoncer  a  son 
e"tat." 

"Nous  devons  dire  toutefois  que  cette  grossierete  de  mop.urs 
ne  vient  pas  exclusivement  aux  Etats-Unis  du  principe  demo- 
cratique.  Une  part  doit  en  etre  attribute  a  la  jeunesse  de 
l'Amerique,  encore  en  lutte  avec  une  nature  primitive,  et  qui 
n'est  qu'a  moitie  vaincue.  Quand  on  vit  au  milieu  des  bois, 
quand  on  entend  de  son  salon  hurler  la  panthere  et  siffler  la 
fleche  du  sauvage,  il  est  difficile  d'etre  aussi  ratline  qu'une 
belle  dame  d'Almach  ou  qu'un  fashionable  de  la  Rue  de  la 
Paix." 

"  Les  Ame*ricains  sont  tristes  et  ne  s'amusent  jamais ;  ils  de- 
daignent  le  theatre,  ils  meprisent  le  bal  et  les  soirees.  De  toutes 
les  distractions  connues,  ils  n'aiment  que  le  jeu,  qui  est  encore 
un  calcul." 

"  Le  mepris  pour  les  femmes  est  un  autre  caractere  de  la  veri- 
table democratic" 

"  Les  homines  et  les  femmes  forment  deux  races  isolees,  et  ne 
se  rapprochent  guere  que  pour  des  choses  indispensables." 

"  Les  pauvres  femmes  sont  done  tres  abanclonnees  en  Amerique, 
et  ne  trouvant  aucun  avantage  a,  plaire  elles  en  negligent  les 
moyens  et  sont  pour  la  plupart  tres  insignifiantes  et  assez 
sottes." 

"  La  les  hommes,  si  on  en  excepte  les  pretres,  ne  regardent 
pas  les  femmes,  n'en  tiennent  aucun  compte.  Ils  dinent  a  l'au- 
berge  pour  ne  pas  les  voir,  meme  a  table ;  s'il  y  a  fete,  ils 
manifestent  solitairement  leur  joie,  eux  seuls  prennent  place  au 
banquet:  les  femmes  sont  releguees  dans  une  chambre  voisine, 
ou  on  leur  sert  des  biscuits  et  de  la  viande  salee,  et  ou  elles 
attendent  patiemment  la  fin  du  repas  et  l'heure  du  bal." 


116  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEKEN. 

From  these  few  examples  one  can  draw  a  fair  conclusion 
as  to  the  quality  of  Monsieur  Jouffroy's  criticism,  and  as 
to  its  value  no  less,  regarded  as  an  expose  of  the  manners 
and  morals  practised  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  in  his 
time.  If  the  professor  had  acquired  no  more  accurate 
information  concerning  the  philosophy  of  Ancient  Greece 
than  he  claimed  to  possess  concerning  the  customs  of 
America,  his  pupils  could  have  had  little  reason  to  pride 
themselves  on  their  acquirements.  Whether  Dr.  War- 
ren ever  met  with  the  article  above  quoted  does  not 
appear,  —  he  does  not  mention  it  in  his  correspondence, 
—  but  if  he  had  perused  it,  it  is  fair  to  infer  that  his  faith 
in  the  writer  would  have  been  considerably  shaken,  de- 
spite his  eloquence,  his  philosophy,  and  his  lofty  ethical 
generalizations. 

Thanks  to  the  progress  of  the  last  half-century,  these 
views  would  now  be  regarded  as  more  or  less  fantastic 
even  in  Europe ;  but  at  that  period  they  were  dominant 
everywhere,  especially  in  England,  where  a  natural  an- 
tipathy magnified  and  multiplied  the  errors  born  of  an 
inherent  obtuseness.  We  were  then  regarded  abroad, 
partly  with  curiosity,  partly  with  anxiety,  as  a  peo- 
ple of  marvellous  realities,  of  extraordinary  possibilities, 
and  of  still  more  extraordinary  suggestions.  From  our 
rapidly  expanding  future  the  wildest  visionaries  drew 
a  fresh  and  vigorous  life,  while  the  conservative  mind, 
on  the  contrary,  saw  but  one  end  to  our  headlong 
rush.1 

1  "In  August,  1825,  the  Duke  Bernard  of  Saxe- Weimar,  accompanied  by  Captain 
Ryk  of  the  'Pallas'  andJVtr.  Van  Tromp,  a  descendant  of  the  famous  admiral  of 
that  name,  dined  at  Quincy  with  a  large  party.  The  Duke  of  Saxe- Weimar  was 
commanding  in  appearance,  being  above  six  feet  in  height ;  intelligent  and  unas- 
suming in  conversation  and  manners.  Unprepared  for  the  progress  of  civilization 
in  the  United  States,  he  expected  to  meet  Indians  in  the  streets  of  Boston,  and  was 
surprised  that  ladies  should  venture  five  hundred  miles  into  the  interior  to  visit 
Niagara.  He  had  loaded  the  'Pallas'  with  books,  articles  of  clothing,  etc.,  as  if 
he  was  going  to  a  country  where  the  accommodations  of  life  were  not  easily  to  be 
obtained."  —  Memoir  of  the  Life  of  Eliza  S.  M.  Quincy.  By  Eliza  Susan  Quincy. 
Boston,  1861. 


DR.   WARREN'S    SOCIAL   ASPECTS.  117 

Such  to  European  eyes  was  the  country  from  which 
Dr.  Warren  and  his  companions  came  to  pursue  their 
studies  in  Paris.  They  must  have  been  viewed  with 
astonishment  by  those  with  whom  they  were  brought  into 
close  connection.  One  can  imagine  even  Professor  Jouf- 
froy  asking  himself  if  the  peculiar  manners,  morals,  and 
institutions  which  he  had  attributed  to  America  could 
have  produced  such  youths  as  those  from  its  shores  whom 
he  daily  saw  before  him.  So  far  as  Dr.  Warren's  dress 
and  demeanor  were  concerned,  he  might  at  this  time  have 
passed  for  one  of  the  jeimesse  cloree.  Before  his  departure 
from  Boston  he  had  already  begun  to  assert  himself  not 
only  professionally  but  in  society.  Good-looking,  nice  in 
his  attire,  graceful  in  manner,  though  somewhat  diffident, 
bright  and  entertaining,  given  to  no  excess,  a  devotee  of 
the  ladies,  of  a  light  heart  and  full  of  spirits,  every  one 
who  saw  him  was  conscious  of  a  gentlemanly  and  interest- 
ing presence.  His  dainty  ways  lent  refinement  and  ele- 
gance to  every  movement.  He  was  as  neat  and  finished 
as  an  epigram.  A  certain  gayety  of  temperament  shone 
in  his  face.  His  demeanor  was  distinguished  by  that  old- 
time  courtesy  which  prevailed  when  manners  were  a  fine 
art  and  had  not  yet  entered  upon  their  decadence.  With 
this  his  whole  nature  was  in  accord,  though  it  was  partly 
inherited.  It  was  the  expression  of  a  deferential  polite- 
ness happily  united  to  the  sincere  and  ingenuous  feeling 
of  youth,  and  it  abode  with  him  to  the  last.  None  could 
have  been  better  fitted  than  he  to  enjoy  and  appreciate 
foreign  life,  or  more  thoroughly  prepared  by  habits,  sym- 
pathy, and  education  to  chime  in  with  the  manners  and 
customs  of  the  better  class  of  Parisians,  as  well  as  with  the 
highest  type  of  French  breeding  and  culture.  He  easily 
swayed  level  with  their  most  winning  refinements.  In  the 
matter  of  deportment  there  was  nothing  to  be  desired ; 
and  of  him  might  truly  have  been  made  the  remark  at- 
tributed to  an  old  marquis  in  the  days  of  Louis  XIV., 


118  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

apropos  of  a  new  courtier :  "  Ce  jeune  homme  ira  loin. 
Ses  manieres  sont  parfaites." 

And  yet  for  society  as  such  Dr.  "Warren  at  that  time 
cared  but  little,  and  he  gave  up  to  its  frivolities  only  that 
which  his  position  demanded.  He  sought  it  as  a  desul- 
tory and  necessary  amusement,  though  never  at  the  ex- 
pense of  his  profession.  "  Occasionally,"  he  wrote,  "  I 
get  over  the  other  side  of  the  river  into  society,  but  with 
somewhat  of  an  effort,  as  it  breaks  in  upon  other  and 
more  serious  matters."  His  main  object  in  life  never 
failed  to  stand  out  clearly  before  him,  and  the  sober  fu- 
ture always  beckoned  him  on  unobscured  by  present  lev- 
ity. When  he  did  resort  to  the  salons,  the  company  he 
chiefly  affected  was  not  that  of  the  gay  and  the  idle,  but 
the  best  he  could  obtain  of  intellectual  maturity  and  ele- 
vation of  sentiment.  It  was  in  such  places  only  that  he 
could  meet  a  certain  class  of  the  great  men  of  the  day. 
Writing  from  London  to  his  father  in  1832,  he  says :  "  I 
find  it  impossible  to  avoid  dinner-parties,  as  it  is  the  only 
way  of  becoming  acquainted  with  the  people  I  am  most 
anxious  to  see."  He  eagerly  drank  in  the  conversation  of 
those  older  and  wiser  than  himself,  and  welcomed  cordially 
those  instructions  which  were  to  be  warmed  and  fresh- 
ened into  a  new  fruitfulness  by  his  own  lively  intelligence. 
Hence,  even  when  young,  he  achieved  a  position  in  the 
minds  of  the  ablest,  and  the  regard  of  his  fellow-students 
was  leavened  with  an  inevitable  respect.  Fortunate  in 
the  possession  of  a  pure  morality  and  a  taste  for  simple 
pleasures,  he  was  not  to  be  led  astray,  though  surrounded 
by  temptations  on  every  hand  which  to  others  often  proved 
irresistible.  Thus  he  was  able  to  indulge  with  slight  hin- 
drance that  absorption  in  his  studies  which  entranced 
him  from  the  first,  and  slowly  and  steadily  gained  upon 
him  during  the  whole  of  his  foreign  sojourn.  "  Every 
one  brings  home  favorable  accounts  of  you,"  writes  Dr. 
John  C.  Warren  in  1834,  "  both  as  to  your  acquirements 


DR.    HOLMES.  119 

and  as  to  your  manners,  which  they  commend  over  the 
frippery  of  many  young  men."  When  Dr.  Warren  was 
intending  to  leave  Europe  in  the  year  last  mentioned,  Sir 
Astley  Cooper  intrusted  him  with  the  following  note :  — 

London,  July  10,  1834. 
My  dear  Sir,  —  I  cannot  suffer  your  son  to  return  without 
assuring  you  of  his  steadiness,  his  gentlemanlike  conduct,  and 
his  perseverance  in  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  his  profession. 

He  will  return  a  blessing  to  yourself,  and  I  trust  will  pursue 
the  same  path  as  his  father  has  done,  and  do  honor  to  the  New 
World. 

I  have  promised  to  send  you  a  proposition  or  two,  which  I 
will  perform  as  soon  as  I  can. 

I  am  yours  truly, 

Astley  Cooper. 
Dr.  Warren. 

Dr.  Holmes,  in  his  graceful  tribute  to  the  memory  of 
his  former  friend  and  companion,  remarks  :  — 

"In  Paris,  in  London,  wherever  we  found  ourselves,  he  never 
for  a  moment  lost  sight  of  his  great  object,  —  to  qualify  himself 
for  that  conspicuous  place  as  a  surgeon  which  was  marked  for 
him  by  the  name  he  bore  and  the  conditions  to  which  he  was 
born.  This  was  his  constant  aim  in  the  hospitals  which  he  as- 
siduously followed,  in  the  museums  which  he  faithfully  explored. 
In  the  society  of  the  distinguished  practitioners  to  whom  he  had 
access  and  to  whom  he  often  introduced  his  less  favored  friends, 
though  always  at  his  ease  and  good  company  for  any  he  might 
meet,  he  was  still  listening  and  learning. 

"  We  who  knew  this  laborious  man  loved  him,  because  he 
was  kind  and  good  and  natural  in  all  his  ways.  I  do  not 
remember  that  any  one  of  us,  even  of  those  who  travelled 
with  him,  —  and  travelling  in  company  is  the  touchstone  of 
infirm  tempers,  —  ever  had  a  hard  word  with  him.  Yet  he 
was  what  we  should  have  called  a  man  of  a  high  spirit,  and 
there  was  some  fiery  blood  in  his  veins,  such  as  Joseph  War- 
ren shed  in  that  fierce  melee  which  opened  the  war  of  the 
Revolution." 


120  JONATHAN   MASON   WAKEEN. 

In  a  similar  strain  of  cordial  recognition  Dr.  Henry  I. 
Bowclitch  has  presented  the  impressions  that  he  still  re- 
tains of  that  young  associate  of  his  early  days  in  foreign 
lands.     He  says  :  — 

"  No  one  ever  heard  aught  against  him.  On  the  contrary, 
the  record  of  his  life,  as  written  on  the  minds  of  all  of  us,  was 
that  of  a  pure-minded,  earnest  youth,  devoted  to  the  high  pur- 
poses of  a  thorough  surgical  education.  This  was  in  1832—33  : 
and  of  all  those  Americans  who  were  students  with  us,  the 
memory  of  no  one  is  sweeter  than  that  I  have  of  him." 

As  might  have  been  inferred  from  the  depth  of  their 
mutual  attachment,  an  unceasing  correspondence  was 
maintained  between  Dr.  "Warren  and  his  father  during 
the  whole  of  the  former's  absence  abroad.  Dr.  John  C. 
Warren  was  a  man  who  never  fell  away  from  the  grand 
ideal  he  had  formed  and  steadily  kept  in  view.  In  the 
sternness  of  his  virtue  and  his  rigid  self-denial,  in  the  no- 
bility of  his  aims  and  the  daily  ripeness  of  his  whole  life, 
he  was  no  unworthy  peer  of  Milton  himself;  and  the  let- 
ters he  wrote  to  his  son  were  such  as  could  have  come 
from  no  other  source.  They  were  richly  freighted  not 
only  with  the  judicious  counsels  born  of  a  sound  morality 
and  religious  fervor,  but  with  the  dictates  of  worldly  wis- 
dom and  the  maxims  of  a  shrewd  and  practical  observa- 
tion which  had  garnered  up  much  truth,  and  had  not 
rejected  the  smallest  trifle  that  might  add  to  the  good 
estate  of  those  who  were  to  come  after  him.  Every  line 
bore  impressive  testimony  to  a  strenuous  longing  for  his 
son's  advancement.  Even  had  the  young  doctor  been 
disposed  to  wander  from  the  right,  these  letters  might 
have  done  much  to  restrain  his  devious  steps.  To  those 
who  knew  the  latter  intimately  and  perceived  the  matu- 
rity of  his  mind,  the  well-laid  plans  he  had  adopted,  and 
the  honorable  career  from  which  he  seldom  swerved,  some 
of  the   contents  of  these   letters  might  have  appeared 


PATEENAL   ADVICE.  121 

superfluous.  Yet  his  father  had  already  been  sorely  tried, 
and  it  was  not  strange  that  he  occasionally  became  a  prey 
to  dim  forebodings  and  apprehensions  of  he  knew  not 
precisely  what.  At  times  these  amounted  almost  to  de- 
spair. "  The  will  of  the  Most  High  be  done  !  "  he  ex- 
claims at  the  close  of  one  of  his  exhortations.  "  Our 
fondest  hopes  are  most  likely  to  be  disappointed,  and  this 
by  trivial  circumstances  within  our  control."  It  could 
not  perhaps  be  otherwise.  The  father  had  every  confi- 
dence in  the  moral  tone  of  his  son,  and  in  his  resolve  to 
let  nothing  interfere  with  the  main  object  of  his  life ;  but 
he  looked  upon  him  from  his  own  high  level,  and  failed 
to  make  the  necessary  allowance  for  the  difference  in 
their  dispositions,  in  their  mental  temperament,  and  even 
in  their  constitutions.  A  very  anchorite  himself,  he  did 
not  apprehend  that  the  abstention  of  which  he  was  capa- 
ble might  be  impossible  with  others.  Caring  little  for 
amusement,  for  the  pleasures  of  the  table,  or  for  any  of 
the  lighter  aspects  of  existence,  he  came  to  regard  them 
as  enemies,  more  or  less  invidious,  whose  first  approaches 
were  to  be  resisted  as  the  signs  of  inevitable  defection. 
In  the  matter  of  diet  his  opinions  had  long  been  formed, 
and  they  continued  the  same  as  they  have  already  been 
given  in  this  memoir.     In  1834  he  writes  to  his  son :  — 

"  Do  not  risk  the  loss  of  all  that  Providence  has  bestowed 
upon  you  by  any  inadvertence  in  your  food.  Seeing,  as  I  do 
every  clay,  the  most  judicious  persons  falling  victims  to  appetite; 
recollecting,  as  I  do,  the  long  struggle  you  have  had  for  health, 
I,  of  course,  feel  much  on  this  subject,  especially  when  I  con- 
sider the  loss  of and  other  fine  young  men.     Do  not  tell 

me  there  is  no  danger.  There  is  danger,  especially  for  you.  If 
you  could  altogether  give  up  the  use  of  wine,  I  should  be  more 
happy.  I  am  constantly  distracted  by  the  idea  that  after  all 
your  acquirements  your  health  may  fail  under  your  labors  in 
study  connected  with  your  modes  of  living. 

"Young  persons,  confident  in  youth  and  strength,  ridicule  the 
hints  and  warnings  of  experience,  or  if  they  don't  do  this  they 


122  JONATHAN"   MASON   WAEREN. 

forget  them  in  the  ardor  of  their  pursuits.  Providence  has 
kindly  spared  you  more  than  once  when  most  critically  situ- 
ated. It  now  lies  with  you  to  spare  yourself  by  a  life  of  steady 
temperance  as  to  liquid  and  abstinence  as  to  solid  food. 

"  Although  I  know  you  will  feel  bound  to  restrict  yourself  as 
to  everything  that  might  impair  your  health  as  much  or  more 
than  other  young  men,  yet  seeing  in  my  daily  experience  how 
much  men  of  sense  trifle  with  health  in  the  early  part  of  life,  I 
feel  no  security  on  this  subject  when  I  consider  what  has  been 
your  health  formerfy.  Health  and  life  are  much  more  under 
our  control  than  we  are  willing  to  admit ;  but  Ave  are  content  to 
live  according  to  our  appetites,  and  to  put  the  responsibility  for 
our  health  on  Providence,  instead  of  relying  on  our  own  effort 
at  self-denial. 

"  Your  present  way  of  living,  going  into  the  hospital  five  or 
six  hours  in  the  morning  without  a  regular  meal,  is,  I  know 
from  experience,  highly  injurious.  I  got  a  febrile  attack  while 
in  Paris  from  this  course,  which  impaired  my  strength  for  the 
season.  You  ought  to  make  your  health  a  primary  considera- 
tion, since  you  have  suffered  so  much  and  caused  so  much  anxi- 
ety to  your  friends.  You  have  naturally  a  good  constitution. 
Study  and  a  want  of  attention  to  food  have  twice  brought  you 
to  the  gates  of  death.  Providence  has  spared  you  thus  far,  but 
I  pray  you  to  remember  that  without  regular  attention  to  all 
the  means  of  preserving  health  you  are  daily  liable  to  relapse. 

"  Practise  much  with  tools.  Get  a  hand-saw  and  saw  bones 
daily  in  every  direction.  Saw  with  your  left  hand.  Learn  to 
shave  with  your  left  hand,1  and  to  dissect.  Do  all  surgical  op- 
erations on  dead  bodies  methodically,  carefully,  and  frequently. 
This  will  not  require  much  time,  and  you  can  command  bodies 
better  than  here.  I  avail  myself  of  every  opportunity  of  doing 
the  most  simple  operations  on  the  dead  body. 

"  Do  not  forget  your  Latin  and  Greek.  Cultivate  friends  and 
correspondents.  Be  careful  of  dinner-parties.  Health  is  easily 
lost,  hardly  regained.  Recollect  that  health  of  body  and  a  good 
conscience  are  necessary  to  the  accomplishment  of  every  good 
work.  Make  as  many  friends  as  you  can  among  our  country- 
men.    Above  all,  bear  in  mind  the  gratitude  we  owe  to  God 

1  "  Manu  strenua,  stabili,  nee  unquam  intremiscente  eaque  non  minus  sinistra, 
quam  dextra,  promptus."  —  Celsus  De  Medicina. 


THE   USE   OF   WINE.  123 

for  so  many  blessings.  Manifest  a  respect  for  religion,  its  ser- 
vices, and  its  great  Author.  In  this  last  more  of  our  young 
men  fail  than  in  any  other  quality.  Neither  men  nor  especially 
women  are  willing  to  trust  their  lives  with  one  in  whose  princi- 
ples they  want  confidence.  Remember,  when  I  mention  these 
things,  I  am  speaking  on  the  foundation  of  near  forty  years  of 
experience,  and  I  speak  not  lightly." 

Under  date  of  Sept.    10,    1834,   Dr.  "Warren's  father 

writes :  — 

"  I  wish  I  could  convey  to  you  the  state  of  feeling  which 
exists  here  in  regard  to  the  use  of  wine.  Great  numbers  are 
giving  it  up  entirely  and  with  uniform  benefit.  If  you  could 
do  this  wholly,  I  would  venture  to  assure  you  of  an  increase  of 
health,  of  pleasure,  and  of  time.  If  I  now  had  all  the  time  and 
all  the  health  that  wine  has  deprived  me  of,  my  life  would  have 
been  far  more  valuable.  But,  alas !  when  I  was  of  your  age, 
wine  was  thought  necessary,  and  I  never  suspected  the  contrary 
till  within  a  few  years  back.  Depend  on  it  that  wine  is  the 
most  certain  and  the  most  insidious  enemy  j^ou  can  have.1 
Take  care  of  yourself,  and  may  the  favor  of  the  Almighty  rest 
on  you  is  the  prayer  of  your  affectionate  father." 

In  his  answer  to  this  letter  Dr.  Warren  says  :  — 

"With  regard  to  the  inconvenience  at  times  occasioned  by 
the  use  of  wine  I  have  not  the  least  cause  to  doubt,  having  had 
convincing  proofs  thereof  during  my  last  visit  to  England  that  a 
continued  use  of  the  stronger  wines  was  after  a  while  attended 
with  more  or  less  loss  of  time  and  disturbance  of  health.  I  am 
pretty  sure  that  with  a  much  smaller  quantity  than  I  am  accus- 
tomed to  take  I  should  not  be  the  worse,  even  in  France.    Some 

1  Dr.  John  C.  Warren  was  true  to  these  stringent  views  on  all  occasions.  In 
June,  1836,  he  went  to  Washington  with  a  part  of  his  family,  and  they  were  for  a 
time  the  guests  of  President  Jackson.  The  Doctor  records  with  no  little  satisfac- 
tion that  "  Mrs.  Warren  gave  him  some  good  advice  about  his  health,  and  recom- 
mended him  not  to  drink  wine,  to  which  he  assented."  Between  these  two 
iron-willed  men  there  were  some  striking  resemblances,  and  no  one  can  be  sur- 
prised that  they  soon  conceived  a  mutual  friendship  for  each  other.  During  Gen- 
eral Jackson's  visit  to  Boston  in  1834  they  had  several  interviews  ;  and  when  the 
former  was  taken  ill,  the  Doctor  gave  a  further  proof  of  his  attachment  by  attending 
him  with  care  and  bleeding  him  twice. 


124  JONATHAN   MASON  WAEKEN. 

stimulus  of  the  kind,  however,  is  absolutely  necessary,  counting 
out  of  the  question  the  impossibility  of  using  the  water.  My 
customary  hour  of  dining  is  about  six,  when  I  walk  over  to  the 
other  side  of  the  river  to  dine,  where  I  meet  two  or  three  com- 
panions. By  a  general  consent  excesses  in  wine  are  avoided, 
and  I  have  not  suffered  during  the  last  two  years  from  any 
effects  it  may  have  in  interfering  with  the  occupations  of  the 
evening,  unless  it  be  a  tendency  to  sleepiness  early  after  dinner. 
I  generally  take  the  Beaune  wine,  one  of  the  best  of  the  red 
Burgundies." 

Once  fairly  settled  in  Paris,  Dr.  Warren  had  quickly 
adapted  himself  to  his  new  surroundings,  notwithstanding 
the  striking  contrast  they  presented  with  the  manners 
and  customs  of  the  country  he  had  so  lately  left.  With 
his  genial  and  pliant  temperament  he  found  the  change 
much  to  his  taste,  and  the  cords  which  had  thus  far  more 
or  less  firmly  bound  him  were  easily  loosened.  He  was 
now  his  own  master  in  a  land  of  all-pervading  latitude  as 
to  moral  and  religious  conduct,  and  where  there  was  no 
limit  to  self-indulgence  but  self-control.  That  he  not  only 
did  nothing  to  justify  his  father's  somewhat  morbid  mis- 
givings, but  really  indulged  in  no  excess,  should  be  placed 
to  his  credit.  Whatever  he  might  innocently  do  without 
encroaching  upon  his  professional  studies  he  did,  and  he 
was  very  willing  to  go  at  least  half-way  to  meet  the  novel 
life  that  was  dawning  upon  him  and  with  many  of  the 
aspects  of  which  his  feelings  so  cordially  agreed.  Among 
all  its  peculiar  phases  nothing  stood  out  in  more  striking- 
contrast  with  his  former  habits,  or  excited  greater  sur- 
j)rise,  than  the  French  manner  of  keeping  the  Sabbath. 
Though  Dr.  Warren's  father  was  no  bigot,  and  in  his  own 
house  had  exerted  only  a  liberal  and  sensible  pressure  upon 
his  children,  yet  he  had  required  various  religious  observ- 
ances as  becoming  and  essential.  Though  these  were  far 
removed  from  the  exactions  of  a  barren  and  meagre  Cal- 
vinism, and  were  in  no  sense  calculated  to  excite  a  posi- 
tive aversion,  his  son  Mason  had  not  given  them  a  very 


SUNDAY   IN   PAEIS.  125 

decided  support,  and  it  was  a  certain  relief  to  his  mind  to 
be  free  from  them.  Dr.  John  C.  Warren  was  a  man  of 
the  deepest  religious  convictions,  and  under  his  roof  Sun- 
day had  ever  been  honored  with  reverence  and  a  con- 
scientious propriety.  His  regard  for  the  day  was  both 
an  hereditary  instinct  and  the  outcome  of  his  natural  tem- 
perament as  well,  and  the  sober  thoughts  evoked  by  its 
weekly  return  harmonized  fully  with  that  solemn  cast  of 
mind  which  led  him  to  dwell  quite  as  much  in  the  future 
as  in  the  present.1  He  brought  up  his  children  to  attend 
church  and  Sunday-school  and  to  learn  the  catechism, 
while  on  every  Sabbath  evening  he  never  omitted  to 
summon  them  to  his  library  for  an  hour's  reading  of 
pious  books,  more  particularly  those  which  he  thought 
most  likely  to  impress  them  with  the  importance  of  a  re- 
ligious life.  The  effect  of  these  teachings  was  excellent, 
and,  as  subsequent  events  proved,  they  were  durably 
stamped  upon  Dr.  Warren's  mind,  —  all  the  more  so  from 
the  respect  he  felt  for  his  father's  character ;  but  the  fa- 
cility with  which  he  proceeded  to  ignore  them  after  his 
arrival  in  Paris  plainly  proved  that  they  did  not  at  once 
bring  forth  the  fruit  which  had  been  expected.  Certainly 
his  moral  sense  had  not  as  yet  impelled  him  to  look  upon 
them  as  vital,  and  he  was  conscious  of  no  sin  in  disregard- 
ing them  for  the  present.2 

1  "  The  facts  you  have  collected  and  will  be  able  to  collect  in  support  of  the 
observance  of  the  Sabbath  are  so  numerous  and  so  easily  obtained  that  it  would  be 
useless  for  me  to  attempt  to  add  to  them.  I  will  only  remark  that  so  far  as  my 
observation  has  extended,  those  persons  who  are  in  the  habit  of  avoiding  worldly 
cares  upon  the  Sabbath  are  those  most  remarkable  for  perfect  performance  of  their 
duties  during  the  week.  The  influence  of  a  change  of  thought  on  the  Sabbath 
upon  the  minds  of  such  persons  resembles  that  of  a  change  of  food  upon  the  body. 
It  seems  to  give  a  fresh  spring  to  the  mental  operations,  as  the  latter  does  to  the 
physical.  I  have  a  firm  belief  that  such  persons  are  able  to  do  more  work,  and  do 
it  better,  in  six  days,  than  if  they  worked  the  whole  seven.  The  breathing  the 
pure  and  sublime  atmosphere  of  a  religious  Sabbath  refreshes  and  invigorates  the 
mind,  and  forms  the  best  preparation  for  the  labors  of  the  following  week."  —  Dr. 
John  C.  Warren  to  Dr.  Edwards. 

2  The  peculiar  mental  structure  and  disposition  of  the  father  and  son  are  well 
illustrated  by  the  difference  in  their  views  concerning  Sabbath  proprieties.    Each 


126  JONATHAN-   MASON   WARKEN. 

Dr.  "Warren  devoted  his  first  Parisian  Sunday  to  the 
Louvre,  and  that  with  no  apparent  sense  of  desecration, 
but  rather  with  obvious  and  light-hearted  relish.  "  In 
Paris,"  his  journal  informs  us,  "  Sunday  is  considered  a 
holiday,  and  every  person  enjoys  himself  as  he  best  can. 
Some  attend  the  fetes  which  are  held  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  city;  others  walk  in  the  gardens,  and  in  the  evening 
visit  the  concerts  and  theatres,  which  on  this  clay  afford 
more  than  usual  attractions.  Everything,  however,  is 
done  in  a  rational  manner,  —  no  brawls  in  the  streets,  or 
noise  of  drunken  fellows,  as  on  an  English  or  American 
holiday." 

Of  his  second  Sunday  he  gives  the  following  account : 

"  Went  out  to  a  fete  at  St.  Cloud,  about  six  miles  from  Paris. 
It  had  continued  three  weeks,  and  this  was  the  last  Sunday.  I 
visited  the  palace,  which  has  a  very  splendid  gallery  of  paint- 
ings. The  tents  and  booths  were  all  arranged  along  the  public 
walk,  while  other  tents  were  erected  for  dancing  and  the  sale  of 
refreshments.  When  lighted  in  the  evening,  the  whole  pre- 
sented a  lively  scene ;  the  superb  display  of  lamps,  the  music 
and  dancing  in  every  direction,  having  a  most  brilliant  effect. 
Each  gentleman  was  required  to  pay  four  sous  for  every  dance, 
with  liberty  to  select  his  own  partner.  Few  fine-looking  women 
were  present ;  and  in  fact  one  seldom  sees  much  beaut}-  among 
the  second-class  French,  though  the  liveliness  and  good-humor 
of  the  women  go  far  to  make  up  for  the  want  of  it."  l 

enjoyed  the  day  after  his  own  fashion.  Dr.  John  C.  Warren  was  one  of  the  very 
few  Americans  —  perhaps  the  only  one  —  who  have  failed  to  he  oppressed  by 
spending  a  Sunday  in  London.  To  him,  however,  the  dreary  monotony  of  the  day 
appears  to  have  been  a  source  of  positive  pleasure.  Writing  to  his  son  from  that 
city  in  October,  1837,  he  says  :  "  To-day  for  the  first  time  I  have  stayed  at  home, 
which  I  regretted  the  more  because  it  was  Sunday,  —  a  most  interesting  day  to  me 
in  London,  for  I  can  then  visit  different  churches  and  take  my  long  walks  in  the 
streets  without  interruption  from  the  noise  of  carriages.  Staying  at  home  to-day 
in  a  pleasant  back-chamber  with  a  good  fire,  I  have  had  time  to  think  for  the  first 
time  in  some  weeks.  The  distant  toll  of  the  various  bells  about  the  upper  part  of 
Portland  Place  has  excited  my  meditations  in  a  most  agreeable  manner." 

1  Dr.  Warren  had  a  decided  taste  for  the  beautiful  under  every  aspect,  especially 
in  woman,  and  this  he  never  lost  to  the  end  of  his  days.  In  his  journal  for  Oct.  1, 
1832,  we  read  an  account  of  a  drive  to  one  of  the  king's  chateaux  with  his  land- 
lady, who  evidently  took  a  peculiar  fancy  to  the  handsome  young  American.     It 


THE    EESTAUEANT   FLICOTEAU.  127 

Thus  agreeably,  and  none  the  less  from  the  latent  flavor 
of  sinfulness  which  pervaded  them,  the  Sundays  were 
passed  to  the  end.1  At  a  later  date  another  enjoyable  fea- 
ture was  added  in  the  shape  of  a  weekly  dinner  at  the 
famous  restaurant  in  the  Palais  Royal,  Les  Trois  Freres 
Provencaux.  This  was  rarely,  if  ever,  omitted,  and  serv- 
ing as  a  sort  of  reward  for  the  past  week's  labors,  was 
productive  of  much  satisfaction  to  Dr.  Warren  and  a 
choice  reunion  of  young  medical  aspirants  with  whom  he 
was  linked  in  a  jovial  fraternity.  In  this  matter  the  convives 
were  far  more  highly  favored  than  the  great  majority  of 
their  fellow-students,  who  seldom  had  such  a  treat  to  an- 
ticipate. The  French  pupils  were  nearly  all  more  or  less 
impecunious,  and  thousands  found  themselves  constrained 
to  limit  their  entire  expenses  to  an  average  of  two  francs 
a  day.  Marjolin's  remark,  "  L'eleve  est  reconnaissant 
surtout  pour  ceux  qui  epargnent  sa  bourse,"  was  of  uni- 
versal application,  and  his  own  popularity  was  based  on  a 
sense  of  its  truth.2  Mostly  they  dined  very  cheaply,  very 
scantily,  and  on  strange  meats.  The  Restaurant  Flicoteau 
seems  to  have  taken  the  lead  in  popularity ;  and  here  they 
were  wont  to  resort  in  a  gregarious  and  empty  herd.  It 
was  celebrated  for  the  number  of  its  patrons,  if  not  for 
the  sumptuousness  of  its  feasts.  Though  not  rare,  the 
food  was  cheap.  For  twenty  sous  one  could  secure  a 
dinner  of  soup,  fish,  and  meat,  with  bread  a  discretion, 

concludes :  "  Not  the  least  interesting  object  I  saw  was  a  pretty  young  woman, 
Madame  Morel's  niece.     A  pretty  woman  is  a  great  rarity  in  France." 

1  In  one  of  his  letters  Dr.  Warren  relates  with  considerable  zest  the  story  of  a 
Frenchman  who  had  spent  some  weeks  in  Boston.  Being  asked  by  a  friend  how 
he  contrived  to  dispose  of  his  Sundays,  he  replied,  "Monsieur,  je  prends  me'decine." 

The  manner  in  which  Dr.  John  C.  Warren  passed  his  first  Sunday  in  Paris  in 
1837  offers  a  characteristic  contrast  to  that  of  his  son.  "  Nov.  13,"  records  his 
journal,  "  I  attended  service  at  Mr.  Baird's  chapel.  Excellent  sermon  from  Mr. 
Kirk.  About  forty  persons  present.  Subject,  '  The  duties  of  parents.'  Form  of 
service  Congregational." 

2  Roux  informed  Dr.  John  C.  Warren  that  the  students  "  paid  nothing  for  attend- 
ing lectures  and  hospitals,  but  those  who  wished  to  graduate  paid  two  hundred 
francs  per  annum  for  their  inscriptions." 


128  JONATHAN  MASON  WARREN. 

though  this  latter  phrase  was  really  of  limited  signifi- 
cance. To  this  might  be  added  a  dessert  of  fruit  for  two 
sous,  and  half  a  bottle  of  fair  claret  for  six  sous.  Not  a 
few  by  snipping  at  either  end  contrived  to  dine  there  for 
sixteen  sous,  —  a  depth  of  economy  beyond  which  no  one 
cared  to  penetrate.  At  this  ordinary  one  could  hardly 
afford  to  be  fastidious,  and  it  would  not  have  been  worth 
the  trouble  to  investigate  too  closely  the  component  parts 
of  any  dish.  One's  peace  of  mind,  and  bodily  comfort  as 
well,  was  far  better  served  by  admitting  the  bliss  that 
comes  from  ignorance,  and  by  contemplating  without  re- 
serve those  plausible  chromos  of  the  cuisine  with  which 
the  seductive  bill  of  fare  was  so  liberally  garnished. 

To  those  who  were  able  to  dine  more  substantially  than 
at  Flicoteau's,  —  with  a  more  vivid  sense  of  reality,  one 
might  say, — the  promised  land  lay  on  the  other  side  of  the 
river,  in  the  Palais  Royal  and  its  neighborhood.  Thither, 
at  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  as  regularly  as  Sunday  came 
round,  Dr.  Warren  and  a  chosen  company  of  friends  — 
Holmes,  Inches,  Jackson,  Hooper,  Bethune,  Bowditch, 
Greene,  Morse,  or  whoever  they  might  be  —  made  their 
way,  and  at  that  savory  corner  of  the  palace  —  Temper- 
ance Corner,  as  it  was  facetiously  termed  —  where  the 
restaurant  of  the  Trois  Freres  was  situated,  abandoned 
themselves  for  the  moment  to  the  delights  of  its  superla- 
tive cuisine.  It  was  renowned  for  its  soiipe  a  la  Tiirc,  for 
its  cotelettes  a  la  Provenqale,  for  its  croide  aux  ananas,  and 
especially  distinguished  for  its  salads,  —  "  sunny  spots  of 
greenery,"  little  oases  of  cool  verdure,  that  never  dis- 
appointed the  longings  of  the  gourmand  whose  veins 
throbbed  with  the  fierce  pulsations  of  the  fiery  Chamber- 
tin,  for  which  it  was  equally  famous,  and  of  which  the 
wit  remarked,  "  Quiconque  n'en  a  pas  goute  n'a  quatre 
sens  au  lieu  de  cinque."  Forty  years  ago  Thackeray,  "  a 
diner-out  of  the  first  lustre,"  and  a  devotee  of  Paris,  who 
allowed  not  a  year  to  pass  without  proving  his  devotion, 


LES  TEOIS  FRERES  PROVENCAUX.         129 

discussed  the  various  merits  of  the  Trois  Freres  to  the 
extent  of  six  pages,  —  no  less  would  have  sufficed,  — 
and  exalted  the  fascinations  of  its  Romanee  gelee.  "As 
nobody  persisted  in  asking  me  to  dinner,  I  went  off  to  the 
Trois  Freres  by  myself,  and  dined  in  that  excellent  com- 
pany," he  says ;  and  few  can  doubt  that  he  justified  the 
epithet  he  applied  to  himself.  This  temple  of  Apicius  is 
now,  alas !  no  more,  in  spite  of  the  revolutions  it  survived 
and  the  triumphs  it  achieved.  Having  been  gradually 
forced  to  yield  to  the  emergencies  resulting  from  the 
Prussian  war,  it  closed  its  doors  in  January,  1872, — a  dis- 
aster which  caused  more  genuine  emotion  in  many  quar- 
ters than  would  have  been  excited  by  the  destruction  of 
a  hundred  palaces  or  monuments.  Nor  is  this  strange 
when  one  knows  that  men  dined  there  with  such  excess 
of  enjoyment  as  to  bewail  in  tears  their  departed  appe- 
tites, and  to  weep  that  there  were  no  more  worlds  for  the 
stomach  to  conquer.  The  trophies  of  the  past  united 
with  those  of  the  present  to  enrich  these  halls  almost  to 
fainting  with  their  varied  perfumes,  which  generations 
had  gathered  into  a  bouquet  of  dainty  essences,  in  which 
like  odors  of  sanctity  the  memories  of  innumerable  wor- 
shippers were  embalmed,  —  partridges  imbued  with  mush- 
rooms ;  fricassees  de  poulet  flavored  with  almonds  ;  ortolans 
that  might  have  died  of  a  rose  in  aromatic  pain ;  and  all 
the  chefs-d'oeuvre  that  had  so  long  wedded  the  poetry  of 
the  palate  to  that  of  the  tongue. 

Dr.  Warren's  journal  abounds  in  souvenirs  of  the  am- 
brosial nights  which  he  and  his  gay  companions,  "full 
of  warm  blood,  of  mirth,  of  gossiping,"  celebrated  at  the 
Trois  Freres,  causing  the  very  air  to  sparkle  with  their 
excellent  wit,  their  racy  humor,  and  their  revival  of  those 
weekly  experiences  which  their  jovial  fancy  under  the 
contagious  inspiration  of  the  time  and  place  enlivened 
into  unsuspected  brightness.  Though  in  these  days,  and 
in  truth  during  his  whole  life,  Dr.  Warren  was  forced  to 


130  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEEEN. 

practise  much  self-denial  as  to  all  matters  of  eating  and 
drinking,  and  even  at  these  scenes  of  peculiar  enticement 
was  fain  to  merely  cast  a  longing  glance  at  many  of  the 
viands  which  the  art  of  the  cook  had  translated  into  every 
shape  of  almost  irresistible  temptation,  yet  we  may  be 
sure  that  in  all  that  reunion  of  young  sybarites  no  one 
enjoyed  more  than  himself.  It  was  an  exciting  appeal  to 
his  every  lighter  sympathy.  He  had  a  piquant  wit  of 
his  own ;  and  the  infinite  facetiousness  of  his  innumerable 
stories,  the  fruit  of  an  observation  quick  and  shrewd,  on 
which  nothing  was  lost,  enabled  him  to  take  his  part 
with  the  best  as  they  winged  the  hours  with  flying  feet. 
He  was  a  born  leader  in  mirth,  nimbly  responsive  to 
every  sally ;  but,  however  strong  the  impulse,  his  humor 
never  degenerated  into  coarseness  or  buffoonery,  nor  did 
the  ripple  of  his  light  laughter  ever  swell  into  the  loud 
tumult  of  unmeaning  folly.  Had  there  been  with  him 
none  but  his  friend  Dr.  Holmes,  then  at  the  highest  top 
sparkle  of  youthful  spirits,  there  would  not,  to  say  the 
least,  have  been  any  untoward  sobriety;  but,  as  it  was, 
the  walls  of  the  grand  old  establishment  had  seldom  re- 
echoed to  the  merry-making  of  a  gayer  or  more  sympa- 
thetic company.  There  are  those  now  living  to  whom 
the  memory  of  these  feasts  still  at  times  recurs  with  lively 
interest,  and  who  yet  sun  themselves  in  the  glowing  light 
transmitted  by  youth  to  threescore  and  ten. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

PEOFESSKJNAL    LOYALTY. OPEEATIC    AND    OTHEE    SPLEN- 

DOES.  —  FEIENDS     FEOM     HOME.  PATEENAL     COMMIS- 
SIONS.   ME.    SAMUEL   WELLES. 

This  was  an  era  of  illustrious  names  in  France,  a 
golden  revival  of  intellectual  life,  especially  under  every 
aspect  of  aesthetic  enjoyment.  Towering  as  was  the 
greatness  of  Dupuytren  and  Louis  in  one  quarter,  it 
hardly  cast  a  shadow  over  that  of  Brillat-Savarin  and  the 
Marquis  de  Cussy  in  another,  and  the  achievements  of 
surgery  and  medicine  ranked  side  by  side  with  those  of 
the  cuisine.  But  there  were  other  stars  no  less  brilliant 
in  their  various  orbits  and  mighty  in  their  influence,  and 
even  the  triumphs  of  epicurism  were  not  surpassed  by  many 
other  allurements  in  their  power  to  beguile  the  very  best 
intentioned  from  their  allegiance  to  duty.  Literature,  mu- 
sic, the  drama,  were  then  all  aglow  with  a  freshly  spring- 
ing vigor,  and  daily  made  new  appeals  to  culture,  taste, 
and  the  sensuous  delights  of  the  moment,  so  weakening 
in  their  effect  upon  the  dry  details  of  abstemious  research. 
It  was  thus  that  Dr.  Warren's  professional  application 
was  often  severely  tested  during  the  whole  of  his  stay  in 
Paris,  as  well  as  the  robust  strength  of  his  principles  and 
his  continued  self-denial ;  for  though  he  occasionally  gave 
up  an  evening  to  some  masterpiece,  operatic,  theatrical, 
or  other,  and  that  with  an  enjoyment  proportioned  to  its 
rarity,  yet  he  allowed  nothing  to  interfere  with  the  main 
object  which  he  had  ever  at  heart.  With  his  taste  for 
music  and  for  the  fascinations  that  accompanied  it  at  the 


132  JONATHAN   MASON"   WARREN. 

opera,  he  might  easily  have  yielded  to  an  endless  round 
of  melodious  pleasures,  all  the  more  that  his  gayety  of 
temper  made  him  naturally  ready  to  cast  care  to  the 
winds  for  the  moment,  whenever  he  might  safely  do  so. 
But  from  this  he  was  saved  by  his  moral  tone,  his  high 
aims,  his  manly  ambition,  and  a  firm  determination  to  set 
his  profession  well  above  every  belittling  and  degrading 
influence.  He  was  like  a  rock  in  his  unyielding  endur- 
ance ;  and  no  soft  waters  could  undermine  it,  nor  could 
any  tumult  of  the  ocean  overthrow  it.  Not  unadvisedly 
had  his  father  trusted  in  the  steadiness  of  his  principles 
when  he  sent  his  son  abroad,  and  in  that  endurance 
which  was  to  be  so  strongly  tempted.  It  was  also  for- 
tunate that  Dr.  Warren  was  able  to  benefit  by  the  ex- 
ample which  his  father  had  ever  given  him  of  hard  labor 
and  untiring  industry,  a  sovereign  and  reviving  panacea 
against  many  of  the  ills  of  life.  No  one  could  have  more 
consistently  illustrated  the  truth  of  the  sentiment  that 
"  man  is  born  to  expend  every  particle  of  strength  that 
God  Almighty  has  given  him  in  doing  the  work  he  finds 
he  is  fit  for,  —  to  stand  it  out  to  the  last  breath  of  life, 
and  do  his  best." 

Never  were  the  resources  of  music  more  powerfully 
displayed  to  the  world  than  at  the  time  of  Dr.  Warren's 
stay  in  Paris.  The  great  masters  Bellini  and  Halevy, 
Auber  and  Donizetti,  were  then  in  their  prime ;  and  so 
was  a  constellation  of  celebrated  singers,  more  splendid 
than  had  yet  dawned  upon  any  age,  who  gave  to  their 
works  a  richness  and  beauty  of  expression  greater  than 
had  ever  been  imagined.  The  winter  of  1834  was  ren- 
dered forever  memorable  by  the  advent  of  no  less  than 
three  chefs-d'oeuvre,  —  "  I  Puritani "  by  Bellini,  "  La  Juive  " 
by  Halevy,  and  the  "Marino  Faliero  "  of  Donizetti;  and 
their  majestic  harmonies  were  interpreted  by  artists  every 
way  worthy  of  the  work  confided  to  them,  and  forming 
a  group  of  which  any  one  would  shine  in  our  clay  with 


OPERATIC    BRILLIANTS.  ■  133 

unapproachable  lustre,  —  Lablache,  with  his  deep  bass  and 
far-resounding  chest-notes,  robust  and  vigorous,  a  Niagara 
of  sonorous  melody,  overflowing  with  energetic  action, 
lofty  declamation,  and  dramatic  versatility;  Grisi,  with 
her  lovely  Italian  face  and  coal-black  eyes,  and  the  liquid 
affluence  of  that  sweet  soprano  so  peculiarly  her  own, 
while  she  sang,  one  was  all  ear,  all  sense  ;  Tamburini, 
whose  voice,  clear,  piercing,  elastic,  rang  like  a  silver 
trumpet.  x\nd  one  could  also  hear  Rubini,  and  IvanorT, 
and  even  Pasta,  with  her  tragic  inspiration  and  "  grace 
and  majesty  as  perfect  as  I  can  conceive,"  wrote  Mrs. 
Kemble,  with  looks  and  gestures  of  tremendous  meaning, 
riveting  and  electrifying  all  who  heard  her,  while  their 
very  heartstrings  vibrated  responsive  as  she  swept  the 
chords  with  the  vehement  and  masterly  stroke  of  genius 
conscious  of  its  power.  "  All  these,  and  more,  came 
flocking."  On  the  opening  night  of  "  Marino  Faliero," 
the  principal  parts  were  taken  by  Lablache,  Tamburini, 
Rubini,  Grisi,  and  Ivanoff, — as  was  truly  said  at  the  time, 
"l'ensemble  de  chanteurs  le  plus  parfait  que  jamais  le 
Theatre  Italien  ait  reuni." 

To  crown  these  perfections  with  a  further  relish,  to  gild 
these  laurels  with  the  glitter  of  a  more  sensuous  thrill, 
came  Taglioni,  and  after  her,  Ellsler.  The  former  seemed 
suddenly  sent  from  heaven  to  earth  to  reveal  a  wonder. 
Like  a  poet,  she  gave  "  to  airy  nothings  a  local  habitation 
and  a  name."  The  grace  and  variety  of  her  agile  move- 
ments amazed  and  excited  even  the  jaded  Parisians,  who 
applauded  her  to  the  operatic  skies,  and  higher.  Soaring 
apparently  from  nothing,  like  the  winged  Mercury,  she 
sprang  twenty  feet  into  the  air  at  a  bound,  the  angelic 
nucleus  of  an  insubstantial  cloud  of  muslin.  Shortly 
before  Dr.  "Warren  left  Paris  for  home  he  attended  her 
annual  benefit.  The  building  could  not  contain  another 
soul,  and  the  spectators  made  themselves  hoarse  writh  a 
frenzy  of  appreciation,  as,  never  smiling,  classically  severe, 


134  JONATHAN    MASON   WAEEEN. 

her  lithe  and  elegant  form  traced  with  absorbed  and  de- 
lightful grace  outlines  of  passionate  meaning  on  the  silent, 
enchanted,  and  complaisant  air. 

Under  date  of  Jan.  10,  1833,  Dr.  Warren  records  his 
first  experience  of  Taglioni :  — 

"  Went  to  the  French  opera  to  see  Taglioni  in  "  La  Sylphide." 
Her  dancing  is  beyond  description  wonderful.  She  seems 
hardly  to  touch  the  ground,  so  light  and  graceful  are  her  steps. 
The  play  of  this  evening  was  well  adapted  to  show  her  off  to 
the  greatest  advantage,  and  she  was  received  with  the  most 
enthusiastic  applause.  She  is  now  about  twenty-five  years  of 
age,  with  black  hair  and  eyes,  a  most  beautiful  form,  and  limbs 
of  perfect  symmetry."  1 

That  there  might  be,  if  possible,  an  embarras  de  luxe, 
Taglioni  was  quickly  followed  by  Ellsler,  who  made  her 
debut,  in  the  fall  of  1834,  at  the  Royal  Academy  of  Music, 
in  "La  Tempete,"  a  French  travesty  of  Shakspeare's 
wondrous  play.  As  Alcine  the  fairy,  "la  fleur  des  magi- 
ciennes,"  she  took  the  town  by  storm,  dancing  "  avec  une 
perfection  desesperante,"  said  the  critic  of  the  occasion, 
"  qui  ne  s'avise  pas  meme  d'avoir  des  caprices.  Tout 
Paris  raffole  de  sa  danse  tactee  et  de  ses  pointes."  Noth- 
ing could  surpass  the  infinite  variety  of  her  motions. 
Now  displaying  a  dramatic  accent  and  measured  cadence, 
now  lavish  of  a  certain  coquetry,  again  she  glided  softly 
like  beauty  floating  in  air,  an  airy,  fairy,  winged  thing, 
a  dancing  flower,  her  filmy  drapery  faintly  clinging 
like  a  silvery  mist.  She  alone  could  fitly  express  the 
mysterious  poses  of  the  Tarantula  and  the  magnificent 

1  An  amusing  illustration  of  the  excitement  caused  by  Taglioni's  rapturous 
waltzing  appears  in  a  letter  written  in  June,  1833,  to  Dr.  Warren,  by  one  of  his 
professional  friends,  Dr.  J.  E.  Morse  :  "  I  see  by  the  papers  that  Taglioni  is  exhib- 
iting la  poe'sie  de  mouvement  to  those  John  Bulls.  Perhaps  I  may  go  over  to  see  her. 
Let  no  man  count  himself  happy  until  he  has  seen  Taglioni  in  'La  Sylphide.' 
I  have  seen  the  Coliseum,  Vesuvius,  the  Giant's  Causeway,  Venice,  Sans  Souci, 
and  the  chemical  apparatus  at  London ;  and  I  assure  you  that  there  is  more 
electric  fluid  or  animal  magnetism  in  her  foot,  and  more  to  please,  than  all  put 
together." 


MADAME    MAES.  135 

raptures  of  the  Spanish  Cachuca,  which  her  great  rival 
found  to  be  beyond  her  powers. 

Nor,  during  this  age  of  wonders,  was  the  drama  less 
favored  than  the  operatic  stage.  At  the  Theatre  Fran- 
cais  Madame  Mars,  the  first  actress  of  her  day  in  comedy, 
and  capable  of  mighty  efforts  in  tragedy  as  well,  was  still 
playing  with  all  the  charms  and  graces  of  youth.  Though 
already  long  past  her  fifth  lustre,  Time  had  scarcely  left 
even  the  trace  of  his  breath  upon  her,  and  her  lovely  face 
and  musical  voice  yet  continued  to  attract  the  crowds 
which  a  former  generation  had  witnessed.  "  Age  could 
not  wither  her,  nor  custom  stale  her  infinite  variety."  She 
was  the  first  French  actress  whom  Dr.  Warren  saw  on  the 
stage  after  his  arrival  in  Paris,  and  he  availed  himself  of 
the  earliest  opportunity  that  offered  to  enjoy  this  treat. 
We  read  in  his  journal :  — 

"  Sept.  24,  1832.  —In  the  evening  went  to  the  Theatre  Fran- 
cois, which  was  crowded  to  the  top,  to  hear  Madame  Mars  in  a 
new  piece  called  '  Clothilde.' " 

The  following  entry,  made  thirty-five  years  after  this, 
reveals  the  durable  impression  her  acting  had  made  upon 
him :  — 

"  1867,  April  27.  —  In  the  afternoon  went  with  the  children 
to  see  Ristori  as  Queen  Elizabeth,  —  the  finest  acting  I  have 
seen  since  the  time  of  Madame  Mars." 

With  Madame  Mars  one  could  also  behold  other  great 
dramatic  stars  of  that  time,  —  Samson,  Mirecour,  Ligier, 
Mme.  Arnould-Plessy,  Mile.  Paradol,  Mile.  Georges,  Mile. 
Brocard,  —  and  a  host  of  luminaries  hardly  less  splendid, 
who  nightly  appeared  to  crowded  houses  in  new  plays  from 
the  pens  of  Hugo  or  Delavigne,  of  Scribe  or  Dumas,  or  per- 
chance portrayed  the  ancient  traditions  that  had  gathered 
round  the  masterpieces  of  Moliere,  Racine,  or  Corneille. 
And  to  these  immortals  one  should  not  omit  to  add  the 


136  JONATHAN   MAS02J    WAEREN. 

name  of  Frederic  Lemaitre,  who  still  shed  an  unfading  radi- 
ance upon  his  own  irresistible  part  of  "Robert  Macaire." 

"  He  who  of  those  delights  can  judge,  and  spare 
To  interpose  them  oft,  is  not  unwise." 

During  his  long  absence  from  home  Dr.  Warren  was  in 
one  respect  most  happily  situated.  "With  a  disposition  so 
remarkably  affectionate  as  his,  and  subject  to  such  nu- 
merous and  tenacious  domestic  ties,  had  he  been  entirely 
separated  from  his  family  the  isolation  would  have  been 
almost  too  depressing  to  bear,  in  spite  of  the  absorbing 
allegiance  he  felt  for  his  studies,  and  the  strength  of  their 
claims  upon  him.  But  to  this  he  was  not  exposed;  and  it 
was  very  seldom  that  he  failed  to  be  cheered  and  encour- 
aged by  the  presence  of  one  or  more  of  his  own  kindred, 
often  closely  connected.  He  had  not  been  six  months  in 
Paris  before  he  was  joined  by  his  sister,  Mrs.  Susan  Ly- 
man, and  her  husband.  It  is  easy  to  imagine  the  recep- 
tion he  gave  them.  The  delight  he  experienced  during 
their  stay  was  only  equalled  by  his  forlorn  sense  of  deso- 
lation after  their  departure.  When  they  had  started  for 
America  he  wrote  in  his  journal :  — 

"  Susan  and  Mr.  Lyman,  with  little  Charles,  left  me  this 
morning,  on  their  way  to  Havre,  for  a  voyage  to  the  happy 
valley.  Success  go  with  them !  Paris  for  the  time  must  be 
viewed  with  jaundiced  eyes,  as  something  seems  wanting." 

To  his  brother  Sullivan  his  welcome  was,  if  this  were 
possible,  still  more  cordial  and  enthusiastic.  Sullivan  was 
long  in  comma;,  as  he  had  embarked  for  Marseilles  in 
September,  1832,  shortly  after  his  graduation  at  Harvard, 
and  did  not  reach  Paris  till  the  following  June.  Having 
ideas  of  his  own  on  the  subject  of  travelling,  he  stayed  in 
Marseilles  four  months,  though  he  had  proposed  to  take 
a  tour  on  foot  through  Switzerland  in  the  month  of  Jan- 
uary, from  which  his  brother  was  successful  in  dissuading 
him.     Ultimately  he  decided  to  leave  for  Rome,  by  way 


SULLIVAN   WARREN.  1S7 

of  Leghorn,  in  the  early  spring,  and  afterwards,  going 
north,  arrived  in  Paris  directly  from  Geneva.  On  the 
13th  of  April  Dr.  Warren  writes :  — 

"  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lyman  are  now  pleasantly  settled  in  the  Hotel 
Meurice,  just  in  front  of  the  garden  of  the  Tuileries.  They  are 
both  in  good  health,  and  well  satisfied  with  the  approaching  end 
of  their  journey  in  Europe.  Sullivan  has  not  yet  arrived  here, 
and  I  have  had  no  letter  from  him  since  he  left  Marseilles." 

Dr.  Warren  writes  to  his  father  on  the  17th  of  No- 
vember, 1832 :  — 


■j 


"I  yesterday  received  a  letter  from  Sullivan,  who  has  at 
length  settled  himself  in  Marseilles.  He  tells  me  that  he  has 
lost  his  chance  of  becoming  vice-consul  there,  as  the  place  is 
filled.  I  think,  if  he  does  not  find  employment  in  the  course  of 
two  or  three  weeks,  he  will  do  well  to  come  to  Paris  and  attend 
the  lectures.  He  could  devote  the  next  summer  to  natural 
history,  etc.,  and  return  in  the  autumn.  From  what  I  hear  of 
Marseilles,  it  is  the  last  place  I  should  think  of  for  the  residence 
of  a  young  man  without  occupation,  and  I  imagine  it  offers  more 
temptations  than  even  Paris.  Sullivan  himself  thinks  so.  His 
first  object,  I  presume,  is  some  mercantile  employment.  If  he 
is  not  successful  in  this,  please  write  me,  on  receipt  of  this,  what 
you  think  of  his  going  to  Paris.  If  he  should  not  reach  here 
before  Susan's  departure,  I  shall  try  to  show  him  the  city  as 
soon  as  possible,  and  ship  him  off,  which,  although  not  so  pleas- 
ant to  myself,  will  be  more  agreeable  to  you,  as  he  has  already 
remained  in  Europe  longer  than  you  intended." 

Notwithstanding  the  resolution  expressed  in  this  letter, 
and  though  Sullivan  failed  to  put  in  his  appearance  for 
more  than  six  weeks  after  its  date,  Dr.  Warren  seems  to 
have  been  unwilling  to  "  ship  him  off "  with  any  particular 
haste,  as  he  took  him  into  his  own  hotel  and  kept  him  a 
month.  During  his  stay  Dr.  Warren  found  him,  in  truth, 
dearer  than  ever.  He  clung  to  him  with  all  the  depth  of 
his  affection,  and  gladly  awarded  him  all  the  time  that 
he  could  wrest  from  his  studies.     His  letters  abound  with 


138  JOXATHA^   MASON   WARREN. 

evidences  of  the  pleasure  that  Sullivan's  society  afforded 
him,  and  with  plans  for  his  general  profit  and  gratifica- 
tion. For  the  time  his  natural  sensibilities  expanded  into 
a  sort  of  fraternal  enthusiasm,  —  a  result  that  might  well 
have  been  anticipated  from  a  separation  which  had  so 
strikingly  illustrated  the  familiar  lines  of  the  poet :  — 

"  Where'er  I  roam,  whatever  realms  I  see, 
My  heart,  untravelled,  fondly  turns  to  thee, 
Still  to  my  brother  turns  with  ceaseless  pain, 
And  drags  at  each  remove  a  lengthening  chain." 

Dr.  "Warren's  first  year  in  Paris  passed  quickly  away, — 
a  result  that  might  easily  have  been  conjectured  from  the 
nature  and  the  variety  of  his  pursuits.  To  the  never- 
ceasing  demands  of  the  great  hospitals,  the  operations  of 
Dupuytren,  Lisfranc,  and  other  lights  of  his  profession, 
and  the  engrossing  work  to  which  Louis  urged  him  on 
with  daily  increasing  attraction,  were  added  the  numerous 
minor  and  yet  important  teachings  of  the  various  spe- 
cialists, such  as  the  excellent  clinical  lectures  of  Rostan 
and  Chomel,  delivered  at  the  bedside  of  the  patient,  the 
various  courses  of  Anclral,1  Marjolin,  Richerand,  and  oth- 
ers. In  the  spring  he  followed  Blainville  on  Comparative 
Anatomy,  Audouin  on  Articulate  Animals,  and  gave 
much  time  to  Ricord  at  the  Hopital  des  Yeneriens.  He 
also  attended  with  lively  interest  for  many  weeks  a  series 
of  operations,  experiments  on  the  arteries,  by  Amussat, 
on  horses,  dogs,  a,nd  other  animals.  These  may  have 
been  "  highly  valuable,"  as  he  terms  them,  to  the  cause 
of  science,  but  they  were  certainly  painful  and  extremely 
cruel.  Most  people  will  not  be  sorry  to  learn  that  "  on 
the  last  day  of  the  course,  and  just  at  the  commencement 

1  Paris,  Nov.  1,  1832.  —  "  The  glory  of  the  week  has  been  Andral's  introductory 
lecture  on  diseases  of  the  brain.  It  was  the  most  eloquent  I  ever  heard,  one 
speech  of  Mr.  Webster's  and  a  sermon  or  two  of  Dr.  Channing's  excepted.  I 
could  scarcely  restrain  myself,  it  was  so  grand  and  beautiful.  What  powers  of 
mind  and  vastness  of  comprehension  has  this  man ! "  —  Letter  from  Dr.  James 
Jackson,  Jr. 


VIVISECTION.  139 

of  a  new  one,  the  police  entered  and  put  a  stop  to  further 
proceedings  for  the.  present,  some  fastidious  persons  in  the 
vicinity  having  complained  of  the  experiments,  either  as 
a  nuisance  or  on  account  of  their  brutality ; "  to  which 
Dr.  Warren  adds,  in  their  defence,  "  the  experiments  are 
doubtless  cruel,  but  not  more  so  than  those  daily  per- 
formed in  public  by  Magendie,  while  they  are  even  more 
important  then  these."  In  view  of  such  unending  labors, 
one  will  not  be  surprised  at  the  fact  that  he  found  his 
hours  fully  occupied.     March  14,  1833,  he  writes  :  — 

"In  one  of  my  letters  I  announced  my  intention  of  trans- 
lating Dupuytren's  Clinique.  This  I  began,  but  soon  saw  that 
it  would  occupy  too  much  time  that  might  be  better  employed. 
To  get  on  with  it  at  any  satisfactory  rate,  and  to  finish  it  with 
even  moderate  rapidity,  would  require  at  least  four  hours  per 
day." 

In  addition  to  his  professional  pursuits  there  were  nu- 
merous other  demands  upon  Dr.  Warren  at  this  time, 
which  could  not  be  ignored.  These  were  in  the  shape 
of  commissions  from  friends  and  relatives  at  home,  which, 
though  often  apparently  trivial,  yet  represented  much  time 
and  labor  as  a  whole.  His  spirit  of  genial  good-nature 
never  allowed  him  to  refuse  even  the  most  frivolous  ot 
these  requests ;  and  since  the  greater  number  proceeded 
from  his  father,  there  was  still  less  desire  to  overlook 
them,  and  a  still  more  earnest  wish  to  carry  them  into 
perfect  execution.  As  a  curious  illustration  of  the  variety 
of  these  orders  from  Dr.  John  C.  Warren,  and  as  sugges- 
tive of  the  trouble  it  must  have  cost  to  fulfil  them,  one 
of  his  letters  to  his  son  is  here  given.  It  is  dated  Jan.  2, 
1834;  and  the  contents  will  also  serve  to  show  the  multi- 
plied pursuits  and  interests  of  the  writer. 

My  dear  Mason,  —  Dr.  Brown  wishes  you  to  get  a  skel- 
eton for  him.  I  wish  a  preparation  of  the  bones  of  the  ear, 
like  Edward's.     A  morbid  preparation  of  bones  of  the  hip-joint, 


140  JONATHAN   MASON"   WARREN. 

affected  by  the  hip  disease,  would  be  useful  to  me.  I  wish  a 
wet  preparation  of  encysted  tumor,  to  show  the  cyst.  Recol- 
lect Vine's  bills  and  the  vendue  of  Madame  Boivin.  Her  works 
are  of  the  first  utility.  Mr.  Welles  would,  I  dare  say,  give  you 
a  note  to  her.  My  best  regards  to  him.  Recollect  the  artificial 
eyes,  and  inform  yourself  fully  as  to  the  mode  of  fixing  them. 
Mr.  Sam.  Hubbard  depends  on  your  doing  it  for  his  daughter. 
Make  a  memorandum  to  buy  some  cucumber  ointment  and  other 
real  French  ointments.  Also  almond  soap,  a  dozen  cakes  ;  they 
charge  seventy-five  cents  here.  The  French  are  famous  for 
these  matters.  I  have  also  derived  much  advantage  from  the 
English  almond  paste  for  washing.  I  wish  a  small  pocket-case, 
about  the  size  of  that  you  bought  in  Canada,  and  let  it  include 
a  pair  of  pointed  forceps  or  tenettes,  —  a  small  instrument  to 
seize  a  tumor.  A  new  skeleton  is  much  needed  at  the  college. 
When  you  go  to  London  recollect  to  procure  me  a  dozen  glass 
preparation  bottles  of  an  oval  shape,  about  four  to  six  inches 
high,  two  or  three  across,  and  three  to  six  long.  Pick  up  all  the 
improvements  you  can,  and  note  them  in  writing.  I  am  having 
made  a  cab,  and  wish  you  would  notice  the  way  of  fastening 
the  boot  down,  or  bring  the  fastening  itself.  I  wish  to  procure 
a  handsome  present  for  Dr.  Flagg.  What  he  would  prefer 
would  be  plates  of  the  diseases  of  teeth.  Look  out  carefully 
for  something  of  this  kind.  If  not  to  be  found,  get  Frederic 
Cuvier's  book  on  the  comparative  anatomy  of  the  teeth.  If  you 
can  purchase  them  in  France  without  clanger  of  their  being 
seized,  I  should  be  glad  to  have  one  or  two  dozen  of  the  largest 
and  best  linen  towels.  I  have  bought  two  or  three  kinds  of 
hygrometers  ;  if  you  find  any  one  in  England  which  is  well 
thought  of,  I  would  have  it.  I  wrote  to  you  a  good  while  since 
for  a  compound  microscope,  and  I  mentioned  the  name  of  the 
inventor.  There  are  three  kinds.  De  Luc's  was  one,  but  not 
the  best.  I  would  mention  the  importance  of  getting  a  knowl- 
edge of  preparation  making,  especially  of  those  beautiful  white 
bones  in  France.  In  London  get  Deville  the  cast  of  a  Calmuck 
skull.  My  collection  of  skulls  is  now  considerable  and  val- 
uable. The  cast  of  the  Caucasian  head  you  sent  before  is  cer- 
tainly not  that  of  the  fine  Georgian  head  of  Blumenbach.  It  is 
not  so  fine  as  some  I  have.  I  should  like  this  cast,  —  namely,  the 
female  head  extolled  by  Blumenbach ;  and  if  there  is  any  better 


PATERNAL    COMMISSIONS.  141 

male  cast,  that  also.  They  should  be  very  carefully  packed.  I 
wish  for  some  engravings  of  heads  to  show  the  varieties  of  the 
human  face,  —  for  example,  a  Chinese  face,  a  Hindoo,  etc. ;  just 
see  if  you  can  find  any.  I  mentioned  in  one  of  my  letters  that 
I  had  a  spare  ourang-outang,  two  feet  long,  the  skin  on.  My 
idea  was  to  give  it  to  Sir  Astley,  if  he  had  none.  It  cost  me 
one  hundred  dollars  in  Africa.  When  you  are  in  England  I 
wish  you  to  get  half  a  dozen  bone  chisels  and  a  small  ivory  mal- 
let. Don't  forget  Heine's  saw ;  also  a  black  coat  and  trousers 
from  Richard  Lane  &  Co.,  tailors,  Sackville  Court.  Please  also 
order  the  Life  of  Mrs.  Hannah  More,  Legh  Richmond's  Annals 
of  the  Poor,  Percivall's  Hippopathology,  and  Bushman  on  Rhino- 
plastic  Operations.  Just  make  a  memorandum  of  all  these  and 
other  matters  on  a  separate  sheet  of  paper,  so  that  nothing  may 
be  omitted  or  overlooked.  Remember  to  ask  Sir  Astley  for  that 
preparation  of  Thymus,  as  it  would  be  a  great  thing  for  me  to 
introduce  in  my  lectures.  Is  there  anything  I  could  send  which 
would  be  acceptable  to  him  ?  Best  almond  soap  is  at  Atkins's, 
London.  Keep  your  hand  in  manual  exercise.  Do  not  forget 
your  Latin  and  Greek ;  above  all,  do  not  forget  Him  who  is  the 
Author  of  all  the  blessings  we  enjoy. 

I  remain,  your  affectionate  father, 

J.  C.  Waeeex. 

The  following  quotations  from  letters  written  by  Dr. 
Warren  during  the  first  few  months  of  his  residence 
in  Paris  will  enable  the  reader  to  see  how  quick  he  was 
to  look  after  his  father's  interests,  and  at  what  an  expen- 
diture of  time  and  vigilance.  The  purchases  and  collec- 
tions to  which  reference  is  therein  made  were  mostly  the 
result  of  former  orders,  and  are  not  connected  with  those 
mentioned  in  the  preceding  letter,  which  was  of  a  later 
date,  and  filled  with  additional  commissions.  Under  date 
of  September  29,  when  he  had  been  barely  a  week  in  the 
French  capital,  he  writes :  — 

"  I  have  been  with  Dr.  Charles  Jackson  to  several  surgical- 
instrument  makers.  There  is  nothing  I  see  especially  worthy 
of  sending  home.     He  will  show  you  a  straight  forceps  for 


142  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

extracting  polypi  from  the  nose,  which  I  should  think  a  great 
improvement  on  the  old.  If  you  approve  of  it,  be  kind  enough 
to  let  me  know,  and  I  will  send  it  out. 

"I  have  not  yet  been  able  to  get  the  skull  you  desired.  I 
fear  it  will  be  attended  with  some  difficulty.  I  met  with  a 
pretty  good  specimen  of  the  Caucasian  head  the  other  day,  but 
imperfect.  I  have  seen  Mr.  Niles,  and  he  advised  me  to  buy  Vel- 
peau's  Surgery  and  forward  it  to  you ;  but  on  inquiring  afterwards 
at  Balliere's  Librairie  I  found  it  had  been  sent.  The  minerals 
for  Mr.  Theodore  Lyman  have  been  purchased  and  sent  home." 

OCTOBER  26. 

I  bought  yesterday  a  dissected  skull,  prepared  to  show  the 
internal  ear,  and  the  different  sinuses  of  the  head.  If  there  is 
any  particular  preparation  of  the  skull  you  would  like,  I  can 
have  it  made  without  difficulty.  I  have  obtained  for  you 
Manec's  work  on  Ligatures  of  the  Arteries.  This  morning  I 
secured  for  you  a  number  of  morbid  bones,  sj)ecimens  of  frac- 
tures, two  or  three  distorted  spines,  caries,  syphilitic  bones,  etc., 
for  about  fifty  dollars,  or  two  hundred  and  forty  francs.  I  shall 
try  to  make  additions  before  I  send  them.  It  is  hard  to  find 
good  examples,  and  they  are  dear.  I  picked  up  for  you  yester- 
day a  very  good  specimen  of  luxation  of  the  second  vertebra  on 
the  atlas,  and  subsequent  ossification  of  the  os  occipital  bone. 
I  was  obliged  to  pay  high  for  it,  —  that  is,  for  Paris,  —  about 
thirty  francs.  I  shall  despatch  some  other  curious  examples  at 
the  same  time.  "Will  you  tell  me  to  what  extent  I  am  to  go  in 
my  purchases  ?     I  have  already  laid  out  eighty  dollars  for  bones. 

December  17. 

I  send  you  a  Roman  Catholic  prayer-book.  There  is  a  great 
variety  of  editions  ;  this  is  the  most  complete.  I  came  across  it 
after  a  long  search  on  the  quay.  It  is  not  entirely  new,  and  cost 
but  five  francs  ;  the  shop  price  would  be  about  twenty.  Of  the 
"Confessions  of  Saint  Augustine"  I  could  discover  only  the 
same  edition  that  you  have,  in  very  small  print,  and  of  course  I 
did  not  buy  it.  One  of  the  old  men  at  the  shops  on  the  quays 
is  now  searching  for  a  larger  print.  If  you  wish  for  any  of  the 
works  of  Cicero  to  complete  your  set,  or  any  other  curious 
ancient  works,  I  can  get  them  for  you. 


PATEKNAL   COMMISSION'S.  143 

January  27,  1833. 

I  send  you,  by  a  ship  sailing  direct  to  Boston,  two  boxes,  —  a 
large  one,  containing  fifty  or  sixty  morbid  bones,  some  skulls,  a 
skeleton  for  Edward,  and  also  the  bones  of  the  head,  separate. 
The  skeleton  I  have  had  made  expressly,  and  wish  you  would 
be  so  kind  as  to  examine  it,  and  see  if  any  improvement  could  be 
made,  as  I  intend  having  one  for  myself.  I  forward  with  these 
a  philosophical  apparatus  for  Dr.  Hale,  to  whom  I  feel  much 
indebted  for  his  attentions  during  my  course  of  studies  with 
him.  I  have  not  yet  been  able  to  find  Reissasen's  plates  on 
the  lungs  ;  the  only  copy  is  in  the  library.  I  shall  look  out  for 
them.  Cloquet's  plates  I  cannot  yet  discover,  but  did  not  pur- 
chase others,  thinking  you  had  no  immediate  call  for  them.  I 
have  bought  for  you  also  Dupuytren's  Urethrotome,  some  in- 
struments for  ligature  of  the  polypus  uteri,  and  a  polypus  for- 
ceps ;  also  some  scissors  for  opening  the  intestines.  All  these  are 
described  in  Velpeau's  work,  and  the  use  of  the  Urethrotome  in 
Dupuytren's.  Should  you  like  the  two  volumes  in  folio  of  the 
Transactions  of  the  Royal  Academy  of  Medicine  ?  There  are 
papers  of  Roux  and  Dupuytren  which  appear  to  be  valuable. 
Among  the  works  I  shall  forward  by  Mr.  Lyman  is  one  by 
Cousin  on  Education,  which  I  thought  might  prove  interesting 
to  you. 

I  have  been  hunting  up  the  cost  of  a  cab,  and  the  expense  of 
transporting  it  to  America,  and  have  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  although  I  might  easily  get  one  light  enough  for  your  pur- 
pose, or  at  least  find  a  horse  in  Boston  large  enough  to  draw  it, 
it  would  be  too  cumbersome  for  a  physician's  use.  Mr.  Lyman 
will  be  able  to  give  you  an  account  of  the  whole  affair,  as  we 
went  together  to  examine  them. 

A  few  weeks  later,  Dr.  "Warren  writes :  — 

"As  to  the  cab,  I  have  almost  made  up  my  mind  to  ignore 
all  objections,  and  despatch  one  forthwith  ;  but,  on  the  whole, 
think  I  will  make  further  inquiries,  and  talk  the  matter  over 
with  Dr.  Bigelow  on  his  return  here." 

These  calls  continued  without  cessation  so  long  as  Dr. 
Warren  remained  abroad ;  and  the  examples  that  have 
been  given  might  be  increased  ad  infinitum,  though  these 


144  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN". 

will  surely  suffice  to  excite  the  reader's  wonder  that,  with 
all  the  other  claims  upon  him,  he  was  able  to  find  any 
time  for  the  more  serious  objects  of  his  foreign  life.  But 
there  were,  in  fact,  numerous  other  matters  requiring  his 
attention,  which  were  also  alien  in  a  great  degree  to  his 
proper  pursuits,  and  must  have  interfered  sadly  with  his 
intended  studies,  had  he  not  been  endowed  with  some 
strange,  persistent  industry  and  ingenuity  of  manage- 
ment, which  would  seem  to  have  enabled  him  to  make 
two  hours  out  of  one.  His  social  position  at  home,  and 
his  wide-spread  and  ever-growing  circle  of  prosperous 
friends  and  relatives,  were  the  source  of  continued  de- 
mands upon  his  hospitable  sympathies ;  and  these  he  was 
ever  ready  to  display,  whether  the  claim  were  more  or 
less  urgent  and  imperative.  It  was  now  his  sister,  now 
one  of  his  brothers,  or  again  some  cousin  or  professional 
friend,  who  happened  to  take  Paris  in  the  course  of  their 
travels  and  were  only  too  delighted  to  receive  the  atten- 
tions he  was  ready  to  bestow.  His  journal  is  liberally 
strewed  with  their  names.  At  times  they  were  on  their 
way  home  from  the  south ;  at  times  they  had  just  arrived 
from  Boston,  en  route  for  the  more  genial  climate  of  Italy, 
and  generally  brought  Dr.  Warren  most  acceptable  news 
from  his  family,  especially  from  his  mother  and  sisters. 
Mr.  J.  Gove,  who  had  been  four  years  in  Italy,  called 
upon  him,  and  was  taken  to  dine  at  the  Palais  Boyal. 

"  December  31.  —  Mr.  Cleveland  came,  and  said  he  had  seen 
Susan  and  Mr.  Lyman  in  Rome  in  November,  and  had  also  met 
Sullivan  at  Marseilles." 

At  intervals  appeared  Mr.  and  Mrs.  T.  H.  Perkins,  Mr. 
Horace  Gray,  from  Italy,  and  Charles  Hammond,  from 
Calcutta. 

"  October  21.  —  Met  in  the  street  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cairnes,  who 
formerly  lived  in  Boston,  in  Mr.  Sears's  old  house.  Called  on 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Peabody,  of  Salem,  and  Dr.  Peirson." 


FAMILIAR   FACES.  145 

A  familiar  stream  of  Boston  names  runs  through  his 
pages : — 

"  May  7,  1833.  —  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Whitwell,  and  Mr.  Young, 
have  just  arrived,  with  news  from  home." 

"  March  13,  1834.  —  Mr.  Phillips  has  arrived  in  Paris.  He 
waited  two  hours  with  the  concierge  of  my  hotel,  determined 
to  see  me.  There  is  no  friend  from  Boston  that  I  have  enjoyed 
so  much  pleasure  in  seeing,  for  a  long  time,  not  only  on  account 
of  the  personal  esteem  I  have  for  him,  but  from  the  interest 
he  has  invariably  expressed  for  me." 

"  May  4. — I  dined  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sam.  Cabot,  Falernian;" 

the  last  word  suggesting  not  only  the  country  they  had 
lately  left,  but  other  charming  associations  in  profusion. 

"  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Bigelow  have  arrived,  travelling  post.  All  werl 
at  home.     Mrs.  B.  saw  my  mother  only  the  day  before  she  left." 

"  May  6.  —  I  met  Dr.  Bigelow 1  dining  in  the  Palais  Royal,  and 
afterwards  turned  him  into  a  puppet  show,  as  he  desired  to  have 
something  to  amuse  him.  He  seems  ready  to  enjoy  everything, 
and  has  the  untiring  spirit  of  a  true  traveller." 

And  thus  it  went  on  to  the  end,  and  hardly  a  day 
passed  that  he   did  not  meet  some  well-known   face  or 

1  The  last  few  lines  of  Dr.  Jacob  Bigelow's  unfinished  autobiography  are  devoted 
to  an  account  of  his  voyage  at  this  time,  which  must  have  been  highly  satisfactory 
to  the  passengers.  The  freight  was  certainly  a  valuable  one,  and  well  represented 
the  dignity,  culture,  and  talent  of  Boston.  In  view  of  subsequent  events,  one 
shudders  to  think  of  the  possible  loss  to  our  city  if  the  "  Philadelphia  "  had  met 
with  any  serious  disaster.  To  Dr.  Warren  the  sudden  advent  of  all  these  familiar 
faces  must  have  been  like  the  rise  of  a  "  happy  constellation." 

"  April  1,  1833,  I  embarked  for  Europe  in  a  sailing  ship  from  New  York  for  Lon- 
don. I  was  accompanied  by  my  wife,  and  an  agreeable  party  of  Bostonians,  among 
whom  were  Messrs.  Thomas  B.  Curtis  and  wife,  Sam.  Whitwell  and  wife,  Mrs.  K. 
Boott  and  daughter,  Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes,  Dr.  Eobert  W.  Hooper,  Mr.  Thomas  G. 
Appleton,  Rev.  Alexander  Young,  Mr.  Edward  Blanchard,  Mr.  George  Barnard, 
and  as  many  more  from  New  York  and  elsewhere.  The  tedium  of  a  thirty  days' 
sailing  voyage  was  relieved  by  the  wit  and  unceasing  good-humor  of  the  party, 
most  of  whom  were  not  so  disabled  by  sickness  as  to  be  incapable  of  participating 
in  the  expedients  resorted  to  to  abbreviate  the  ennui  attendant  on  calms  and  head 
winds.  Arrived  at  Portsmouth,  we  proceeded  directly  to  London,  mostly  by  stage- 
coaches. Here  we  stopped  a  few  days  to  engage  a  courier  and  make  preparations 
for  a  short  continental  tour.  At  Paris  we  delayed  only  ten  days,  being  anxious  to 
reach  Italy  before  the  arrival  of  warm  weather.  We  left  Paris,  May  — ,  accompanied 
by  one  courier  only."  —  Memoir  of  Jacob  Bigelow,  M.D.,  by  George  E.  Ellis,  D.D. 

10 


146  JONATHAN   MASON    WAEKEN. 

hear  some  well-known  name  that  had  been  connected 
with  his  life  from  childhood.1 

Dr.  Warren  had  many  letters  of  introduction  from  his 
own  and  his  father's  friends  at  home,  and  not  a  few  also 
from  other  friends  he  had  made  in  England ;  and  as  he 
desired  to  neglect  no  means  of  improvement,  in  whatever 
direction  it  might  tend,  he  made  it  a  point  to  present 
these  letters,  and  to  perform  conscientiously  the  duties 
which  etiquette  required  of  him.  To  such  professional 
social  duties  many  evenings  were  devoted ;  and  by  these 
his  position  was  much  improved,  and  he  gained  obvious 
advantages  of  divers  sorts.  From  his  notes  one  learns 
that  he  attended  the  new-year's  levee  of  Eoux,  to  whom 
he  was  presented  by  his  son-in-law,  Dagnan.  He  found 
Eoux  to  be  — 

"  a  man  of  about  fifty-eight  years  of  age,  with  a  most  pleas- 
ant and  prepossessing  face,  though  one  of  his  eyes  is  turned  a 
little  out  of  its  axis.  The  scene  was  a  novel  one  to  me,  as  an 
aspect  of  French  society.  In  one  room  were  a  number  of  old 
men,  some  playing  cards,  some  billiards,  while  farther  on  was  a 
knot  of  ladies  with  their  sewing.  I  had  a  long  talk  with  Roux 
on  amputations,  on  the  entrance  of  air  into  the  veins,  and  other 
similar  subjects.  He  said  he  had  lately  had  a  case  of  a  young 
woman,  on  whom  he  operated  for  a  tumor  of  the  neck.  A  vein 
was  opened,  with  a  hissing  sound,  and  the  patient  fell  back,  the 
pulsations  of  the  heart  apparently  ceasing.  After  a  while,  how- 
ever, she  was  brought  to,  and  the  operation  continued.  She 
lived  a  few  days,  but  finally  died  from  improper  food  given  by 
her  nurse." 


1  The  entertainment  that  Dr.  Warren  was  able  to  offer  his  friends  in  Paris  was 
often  peculiar,  and  was  not*  likely  to  fail  on  the  score  of  novelty.  With  his  pro- 
fessional enthusiasm,  it  was  perhaps  quite  natural  that  he  could  think  hardly  any- 
thing more  absorbingly  attractive  than  the  nimble  legerdemain  of  the  great 
French  surgeons,  and  the  dashing  aplomb  with  which  they  hovered  round  a  vital 
part  and  yet  avoided  it  by  a  hair's-breadth.  Such  entries  as  these  are  not  infre- 
quent :  "  Yesterday  I  took  Mr.  Lyman  to  see  Civiale  operate.  He  fortunately  hap- 
pened to  have  a  patient  ready,  but  the  stone  was  very  small.  After  this  T  went 
with  him  to  Hotel  Dieu,  where  we  saw  Breschet  amputate  a  leg  above  the  knee  for 
cancer." 


MR.    SAMUEL    WELLES.  147 

Shortly  after  his  reception  at  Roux's  we  read  of  a  sim- 
ilar experience  at  Breschet's.  In  fact,  no  door  seems  to 
have  been  closed  to  him,  social  or  professional,  and  he  thns 
made  many  new  and  profitable  acquaintances.  From  Mon- 
sieur Baffos,  "  a  student  of  Dubois  at  the  same  time  with 
my  father,"  he  received  numerous  courtesies,  and  also 
from  Mr.  Niles,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  entertaining  on 
a  large  and  splendid  scale.  Here,  on  the  evening  of 
Jan.  16,  1833,  he  met  Mrs.  Patterson  Bonaparte,  then  in 
the  prime  of  her  beauty,  wit,  and  ambition. 

"Feb.  22,  1833.  — Grand  ball  at  Mrs.  Welles's,1  one  of  the 
most  brilliant  I  ever  attended,  and  with  the  greatest  display  of 

1  Mr.  Samuel  Welles  was  at  this  time  the  only  prominent  American  banker  in 
Paris,  where  he  had  lived  since  1815.  He  was  universally  esteemed  and  trusted ; 
and  his  honorable  enterprise  and  integrity  had  gradually  resulted  in  wealth  which 
enabled  him  to  indulge  without  stint  in  that  benevolence  for  which  thousands  had 
come  to  be  his  debtors.  Much  more  was  expected  of  a  foreign  banker  in  those 
days  than  now  ;  and  the  attentions  so  freely  claimed  by  his  friends  and  patrons  he 
as  freely  bestowed,  with  the  cordial  fulness  of  a  kindly  nature.  His  popularity 
was  great ;  and  so  widely  extended  were  his  connections  and  influence  that  few  of 
his  countrymen,  when  abroad,  failed  to  find  their  way  to  his  rooms,  while  he  had 
entertained  in  his  own  home  nearly  every  travelled  American  of  note.  Numbers 
yet  live  to  recall  with  a  certain  vividness  the  genial  and  sumptuous  hospitality 
which  he  was  wont  to  dispense  at  his  mansion  on  the  Place  St.  Georges  or  at  his 
chateau  at  Suresne  near  Paris,  —  a  service  in  which  he  was  ably  seconded  by 
his  wife  (once  Miss  Adeline  Powle,  as  above  mentioned),  a  hostess  of  peculiar 
beauty  and  grace,  tact,  culture,  and  refinement.  Under  their  roof  Dr.  Warren 
felt  himself  more  at  his  ease  than  most  of  the  other  guests,  being  in  a  measure 
among  his  own  relations.  Long  before  this  time  the  Welles  and  Warren  families 
had  been  brought  closely  together  by  the  marriage,  in  1790,  of  General  Arnold 
Welles,  first  cousin  of  the  banker,  and  Elizabeth,  eldest  daughter  of  General 
Joseph  Warren,  —  the  first  of  a  series  of  alliances  which,  in  the  lapse  of  some  gen- 
erations, were  to  bring  the  Warrens  into  a  union,  more  or  less  intimate,  with  many 
of  the  oldest  and  most  respected  families  of  their  native  city. 

A  century  ago,  and  more,  owing  to  their  wealth  and  official  dignity,  the  social 
standing  of  the  Welleses  was  of  the  highest,  and  none  outranked  them.  In  their 
prime  they  represented  the  local  nobility  of  Boston.  The  name  of  Samuel  Welles, 
father  of  the  banker,  who  graduated  at  Harvard  in  1744,  was  placed  at  the  head  of 
his  class  in  the  college  catalogue ;  and  the  same  was  true  of  his  brother  Arnold,  an 
alumnus  of  the  succeeding  year,  thus  exemplifying  the  rules  of  social  gradation  in 
vogue  till  1773  at  Harvard,  the  government  of  which  was  then,  to  use  the  words 
of  Judge  Wingate,  "a  complete  aristocracy."  This  was  at  a  period  when  ninny 
other  families  of  the  Pilgrim  metropolis,  now  thought  old  and  "blue,"  had-not 
begun  to  emerge  from  obscurity. 

Mr.  Welles,  the  banker,  died  on  the  30th  of  August,  1841,  at  Suresne  ;  and  about 


148  JONATHAN   MASON    WARREN. 

beauty.  As  we  approached  the  house,  a  long  line  of  carriages 
blocked  the  way.  Before  the  house  a  large  fountain  was  play- 
ing, lighted  by  hundreds  of  colored  lamps.  The  interior  was 
finely  arranged.  There  were  four  large  salons  on  the  lower 
floor,  one  of  which  was  employed  for  a  reception-room,  and  the 
others  for  dancing.  The  walls  were  covered  with  a  species  of 
white  crepe,  with  a  beautiful  border  at  top  and  bottom.  The 
curtains  of  one  room  were  formed  of  the  American  flag,  which 
offered  a  splendid  contrast  to  the  lining  of  the  walls.  In  the 
centre  of  the  house  was  stationed  a  fine  band  of  music.  Among 
the  guests  were  Lafa}Tette  and  his  family,  with  many  other  emi- 
nent persons.  Here  I  met  Mr.  and  Mrs.  P.  Perkins,  of  whose 
presence  in  town  this  was  my  first  information.  Here  also  were 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Clarke,  the  latter  looking  especially  handsome  and 
interesting,  Cooper  the  novelist,  and  many  others.  Above  stairs 
one  saw  the  chambers,  boudoir,  and  other  rooms  equally  fine. 
The  ball  ended  with  a  handsome  supper." 

a  year  thereafter  his  widow,  having  been  left  with  an  income  of  twenty-five  thou- 
sand pounds,  married  the  Marquis  de  Lavalette,  son  of  M.  Jean  L.  A.  Delavalette, 
who  had  assumed  that  title  and  was  then  regarded  as  a  talented  and  rising  diplo- 
mate.  His  subsequent  career  was  destined  to  realize  the  mutual  hopes  and  aspi- 
rations of  himself  and  his  partner ;  for  he  lived  to  achieve  some  of  the  loftiest 
positions  at  foreign  courts  in  the  gift  of  Napoleon,  finally  becoming  minister  of 
foreign  affairs,  and,  at  the  last,  ambassador  to  Queen  Victoria,  when  the  empire 
sank  in  blood  and  ruin  at  Sedan,  though  this  humiliation  was  spared  to  his  wife, 
through  her  death,  March  21,  1869,  at  the  ripe  age  of  seventy.  After  this  the  Mar- 
quis lived  in  retirement  till  the  4th  of  May,  1881,  when  he  died,  aged  seventy-five, 
leaving  a  widow,  the  youngest  daughter  of  the  Comte  de  Flahault  and  the  Baroness 
of  Keith  and  Nairne,  whom  he  had  married  en  secondes  noces  Feb.  2,  1871,  —  the 
day  of  the  surrender  of  Paris  to  the  Germans. 

Samuel  Welles,  the  son  and  only  child  of  the  banker,  was  born  in  Boston,  March 
22,  1834,  during  a  visit  of  his  mother  to  this  city.  On  coming  of  age  he  took  the 
title  of  Count  Welles  de  Lavalette,  finally  conferred  upon  him  in  1863,  and  thus 
regained  his  rank  as  one  of  "  the  local  nobility,"  which  had,  as  it  were,  been  in 
abeyance  since  his  father's  departure  for  Europe.  In  1857  he  was  a  deputy  to  the 
Corps  Legislatif  from  the  Dordogne,  and  in  1863  obtained  letters  of  naturalization 
as  a  French  citizen.  Aug.  11,  1863,  he  espoused  Mile.  Marie  Sophie  Leonie,  the 
daughter  of  Rouher,  the  famous  premier  of  Napoleon  III.  On  the  14th  of  Novem- 
ber, 1864,  his  step-father,  having  six  years  before  made  an  effort  which  was  decided 
to  be  entachee  de  nullite',  secured  a  decree  from  the  imperial  court,  which  authorized 
him  to  carry  out  his  already  declared  intention  of  adopting  the  Count,  and  confirmed 
the  latter  as  his  son  and  heir,  —  a  decision  of  much  importance  under  certain  aspects, 
as  it  settled  a  question,  till  then  doubtful,  as  to  the  right  of  a  French  citizen  to  adopt 
a  person  of  foreign  birth.  As  the  issue  of  all  these  transmutations,  it  may  be  safely 
inferred  that  the  Count  is  definitely  lost  to  Boston,  and  that  the  thin  and  acrid  ichor 
of  two  centuries  of  Puritanism  has  been  thoroughly  evolved  from  his  system. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

LAFAYETTE.  —  EAJAH    EAMMOHUN    EOT.  —  THE    CAENIVAL 

OF   1833   AND    OTHEE   DIVEESIONS. COREESPONDENCE. 

PEOFESSIONAL    PUESUITS. JOUENEY    TO    SWITZEELAND 

AND   ITALY. 

Among  all  the  notable  men  to  whom  Dr.  Warren  had 
letters,  there  was  no  one  whom  he  had  a  more  natural 
desire  and  curiosity  to  see  than  Lafayette.  As  he  had 
been  provided  with  a  complimentary  introduction  by 
Daniel  Webster,  who  described  him  as  the  nephew  of 
General  Warren  of  Bunker  Hill,  he  was  sure  of  a  cordial 
reception.  His  journal  of  Dec.  9,  1832,  records  his  visit 
as  follows :  — 

"Having  yesterday  delivered  my  letter  to  Lafayette,  I  re- 
ceived a  note  from  him  saying  that  he  would  be  at  home  this 
morning  between  ten  and  eleven  and  would  be  happy  to  have 
me  call.  Accordingly  Morse  and  I  waited  upon  him  at  the  latter 
hour.  In  the  anteroom  we  were  asked  by  a  servant  for  the 
note  the  General  had  sent  us,  but  unfortunately  we  had  not 
taken  it  with  us.  However,  he  took  our  names,  and  showed  us 
into  a  salon,  where  Lafayette  soon  appeared  and  welcomed  us 
most  kindly,  asking  for  our  respective  fathers,  whom  he  seemed 
to  remember,  and  saying  many  agreeable  things.  We  spent 
fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  very  pleasantly.  He  expressed 
much  interest  in  the  progress  of  Bunker  Hill  Monument,  and 
inquired  if  it  was  finished.  He  offered  us  tickets  to  the  Cham- 
ber of  Deputies,  and  invited  us  to  visit  him  in  the  summer  at 
Lagrange,  his  country-seat.  The  General  appeared  in  good 
health,  and  but  little  changed  since  he  was  in  Boston,  though 
he  was  much  disheartened  by  the  present  aspect  of  political 
events.     He   retained  a  wonderful   recollection  of  everything 


150  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEEEN. 

that  occurred  to  him  during  his  journey  in  our  country.  The 
numbers  calling  upon  him  are  so  great  that  he  finds  it  absolutely 
necessary  to  put  some  restriction  upon  their  approaches,  and 
certain  forms  or  credentials  are  required  of  every  visitor  before 
he  consents  to  see  him.  In  fact,  he  now  receives  as  few  visitors 
as  possible,  since  he  has  arrived  at  an  age  when  they  are  for  the 
most  part  irksome,  especially  those  who  are  impelled  merely  by 
curiosity  ;  but  he  is  very  liberal  in  his  invitations  to  all  to  spend 
a  few  days  with  him  at  Lagrange." 

Hardly  less  interesting  than  Lafayette  was  another 
well-known  character  of  that  day,  whom  Dr.  Warren  met 
a  few  weeks  after  his  arrival  in  Paris.  This  was  Kajah 
Rammohun  Roy,  a  Brahmin,  who  had  abandoned  the 
faith  of  his  fathers  for  Christianity  and  adopted  the  Uni- 
tarian belief.  He  was  then  residing  in  England,  where 
his  wonderful  learning,  high  moral  tone,  and  controversial 
energy  had  made  him  famous  soon  after  his  first  appear- 
ance there.  When  Dr.  Warren  saw  him  he  was  accom- 
panied by  the  eminent  English  scholar  and  linguist,  Dr. 
Bowring,  and  was  attending  service  at  a  Unitarian  chapel. 
Dr.  Warren  was  particularly  interested  in  him  from  the 
nature  of  the  religious  tenets  he  professed,  which  were 
then  exciting  so  fierce  a  discussion  in  his  own  native 
place.  He  describes  the  Rajah  as  singularly  handsome  of 
face,  tall  and  robust,  and  with  most  courtly  manners. 
He  had  a  swarthy  complexion  and  features  of  a  certain 
Egyptian  cast.  He  wore  a  red  robe  closely  girdled  at 
the  waist,  while  a  blue  silk  handkerchief  covered  his 
breast.  Over  his  shoulders  he  had  a  superb  cashmere 
shawl,  and  on  his  head  a  blue  turban,  which  he  kept  on 
during  the  service." 

"  Seldom  have  I  been  more  surprised  than  at  sight  of  a  man 
with  a  dark  skin  and  regarded  generally  as  an  infidel,  speaking 
the  English  language  with  beautiful  purity  and  precision  and 
displaying  a  familiar  acquaintance  with  all  literature,  both 
ancient  and  modern.     He  was  accompanied  by  Dr.  Bowring, 


CONSERVATOIRE    DE    MUSIQUE.  151 

author  of  a  little  book  called  '  Matins  and  Vespers  '  and  of 
other  religious  works." 

A  few  other  extracts  from  Dr.  Warren's  journals  dur- 
ing the  winter  of  1832-33  are  here  given,  as  interesting 
reminiscences  of  his  life  at  that  time. 

"  Dec.  15,  1832.  —  Having  bought  a  ticket  this  morning  for 
the  great  Conservatoire  de  Musique,  I  attended  there  at  two 
o'clock,  and  heard  some  of  the  finest  music  of  the  kind  that 
could  possibly  be  selected.  This  day's  concert  was  a  selection 
of  the  music  of  the  sixteenth  century.  The  orchestra  was  com- 
posed of  instruments  hitherto  unknown  to  me,  except  by  tradi- 
tion,—  the  viol,  an  instrument  in  the  shape  of  a  piano,  but  with 
the  tones  of  a  harp,  and  numerous  other  ancient  instruments. 
We  had  also  five  or  six  violins,  ten  guitars,  harps,  organs,  etc. 
The  singers  were  some  of  the  first  talent  in  Paris.  After  a 
short  history  of  the  music  of  the  sixteenth  century  by  the  leader 
of  the  choir,  the  concert  was  opened  by  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
pieces  of  sacred  music  I  have  ever  heard.  The  combination  of 
voices  was  so  harmonious  that  it  was  impossible  to  believe  that 
the  sounds  were  not  produced  by  a  single  person.  After  the 
sacred  music  we  had  selections  from  the  various  Spanish,  Italian, 
and  French  masters  of  the  time,  a  concerto  of  ten  guitars,  and  a 
fine  execution  on  the  violin  by  Baillot,  —  the  best  violin-player  in 
Paris.     Mile.  Massy  was  among  the  first  of  the  female  singers." 

"  December  25,  Christmas.  —  Messrs.  Greene,  Jackson,  and 
myself  dined  together  to  celebrate  the  day.  Toasts  to  be 
remembered  next  Christmas,  when  we  shall  probably  all  be 
separated.     Visited  Dubois." 

"Jan.  1, 1833.  —  Paris  on  this  day  is  remarkably  gay.  Every 
one  seems  to  be  in  the  street,  offering  or  receiving  the  con- 
gratulations of  his  friends.  The  king  holds  a  great  levee  for 
all  the  officers  of  State  at  the  Tuileries,  and  afterwards  gives 
a  grand  dinner.  Morse,  Gove,  Greene,  and  I  dined  at  the 
Trois  Freres,  the  popular  restaurant,  where  we  had  two  days 
before  ordered  a  dish  of  frogs  with  other  delicacies.  We  dined 
at  six,  our  dinner  beginning  with  soupe  a  la  Turc ;  afterwards 
came  turbot ;  and  finally  the  frogs  were  brought  in,  or  rather 
their  hind-legs,  as  this  is  the  only  part  used.     I  suppose  there 


152  JONATHAN   MASON"   WARREN. 

must  have  been  from  two  to  three  hundred  of  these  creatures 
slain  for  the  occasion,  though  we  very  soon  contrived  to  dispose 
of  them.  They  tasted  much  like  tender  chicken,  and  were 
really  exquisite.  A  particular  kind  of  frog  only  is  employed 
for  the  table.  It  is  said  that  the  others  are  all  poisonous,  so 
that  we  had  one  chance  out  of  eighty-one  of  coming  to  grief, 
which  of  course  enhanced  the  pleasure  of  the  banquet.  In 
addition  to  this  course  we  had  truffles  and  Rochefort  cheese, 
making  altogether  a  unique  feast." 

"  Jan.  10,  1833.  —  Went  the  night  before  last  to  a  German 
physician's,  M.  Sichel,  29  Rue  de  la  Harpe.  He  has  a  nice 
little  Scotch  wife.  I  met  also  a  number  of  Germans  and  a 
young  Spanish  girl  who  did  not  speak  French  much  better  than 
myself,  so  that  we  found  ourselves  companions  in  trouble  and 
soon  became  very  good  friends.  M.  Sichel  tells  me  that  he 
is  the  only  professed  oculist  in  Paris,  and  has  come  here  for 
the  purpose  of  attending  entirely  to  diseases  of  the  eye,  as  that 
is  not  a  separate  branch  here.  In  the  course  of  time  he  hopes 
to  establish  a  hospital  for  this  specialty." 

"  Jan.  23,  1833.  —  The  husband  of  my  washerwoman  came 
into  my  room  this  morning,  and  I  asked  him  some  questions 
about  his  former  life.  He  told  me  he  was  Scotch  and  had  been 
Bonaparte's  coachman,  having  attended  him  in  that  capacity 
on  his  famous  Russian  campaign.  He  said  Napoleon  always 
had  his  coach  and  six  horses  ready  at  hand  for  any  emergency. 
This  man  was  in  the  battle  of  Moscow,  and  took  part  in  the 
sack  of  the  city.  He  was  also  in  the  Kremlin  when  it  took 
fire.  He  said  of  all  the  spoils  that  came  to  the  troops  he  re- 
tained nothing  but  a  fur  robe  lined  with  fox-skins,  which  he 
afterwards  sold  for  six  napoleons.  His  description  of  the 
attacks  of  the  Cossacks  was  most  exciting." 

"  February  13.  —  Saw  this  evening  the  opera  '  Giuletta  e 
Romeo.'  The  music  was  fine  and  the  singing  of  Julia  Grisi 
beautiful.  After  the  opera  at  twelve  o'clock  attended  one  of 
the  masked  balls  for  which  Paris  is  so  famous  during  the  daj-s  — 
or  rather  the  nights  —  of  the  Carnival.  They  are  held  at  most 
of  the  theatres,  begin  at  midnight  and  last  till  six  in  the  morn- 
ing. Most  of  the  women  are  masked  and  in  fancy  dresses,  the 
men  having  the  choice  of  going  masked  or  not.  The  one  I 
attended  was  at  the  Opera   Comique.     The  pit  was  covered 


THE    CARNIVAL.  153 

over,  so  that  with  the  stage  it  formed  quite  an  extensive  ball- 
room. The  dancing .  began  at  one.  The  masks  and  fancy 
dresses  were  some  of  them  extremely  amusing.  There  were 
men  in  women's  dresses  and  women  in  male  costume.  The 
attendance  was  rather  promiscuous,  but  sufficiently  entertaining. 
Got  home  at  five  o'clock." 

'•'•February  17. —  To-day  the  Carnival  was  at  its  height;  and 
although  it  was  Sunday,  the  passages  near  the  Boulevards  were 
filled  with  a  motley  crowd  in  every  sort  of  fantastic  garb.  As 
I  came  out  of  a  brilliant  concert  at  the  Conservatoire,  I  found 
it  almost  impossible  to  make  my  way.  The  sidewalks  were 
entirely  covered  with  promenaders,  while  the  broad  avenue  was 
crowded  with  people  in  every  disguise,  mounted  on  coach,  cab, 
or  horseback.  Glad  to  escape  from  the  intolerable  din,  I  was 
going  to  my  rooms,  when  I  met  the  Bceuf  Gras  in  procession. 
The  prize  ox,  the  principal  feature  of  this  show,  was  led  in 
parade  by  numbers  of  butchers  on  horseback  and  rigged  out  in 
the  most  ridiculous  attire.  The  animal  was  richly  caparisoned; 
and  behind  him  came  a  large  car  containing  Juno,  Venus, 
Vesta,  and  Cupid.  This  was  driven  by  Time,  armed  with  a 
scythe,  wings,  and  other  features  supposed  to  belong  to  him. 
Cupid  was  formerly  placed  on  the  back  of  the  ox ;  but  one  of 
his  representatives  having  fallen  from  his  perch  and  broken  a 
leg,  the  custom  ceased  to  be  observed." 

"February  18.  —  Mardi  Gras,  the  last  and  most  famous  day 
of  all.  The  weather  proved  to  be  most  delightful,  and  all  Paris 
was  in  the  streets.  The  garden  of  the  Tuileries  was  almost 
entirely  filled  with  women  and  children  in  the  most  beautiful 
dresses,  while  masks  were  abundant  in  the  streets.  As  I  passed 
slowly  along  the  Rue  de  la  Paix,  stopping  occasionally  to  look 
at  some  new  form  of  fun  and  frolic,  I  left  my  pocket  unguarded, 
and  felt  my  handkerchief  slowly  creeping  out  just  as  a  large 
car  filled  with  heathen  deities  was  passing.  I  turned  quickly 
round  ;  but  the  fellow  who  had  his  hand  in  my  pocket  persisted 
in  looking  another  way  in  spite  of  all  I  could  do  to  catch  his  eye. 
He  soon,  however,  mixed  with  the  crowd  and  disappeared. 

"  Determined  to  see  the  day  out,  a  few  of  us  went  to  the  opera 
to  see  the  first  act  of  'La  Tentation '  by  Halevy,  —  Mile.  Du- 
vernay  as  Miranda.  The  scenery  of  the  infernal  regions  in  this 
opera  is  most  wonderful.     Adolphe  Nourrit,  the  first  French 


154  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

opera-singer  in  Paris,  sang,  and  Taglioni  danced  in  the  last 
piece.  Leaving  the  opera  at  half-past  eleven  masked,  we  de- 
scended into  the  ball-room  of  the  Idilia,  which  is  frequented 
by  most  of  the  lower  classes.  Here  was  an  uproarious  scene  of 
mirth  and  boisterous  gayety ;  and  a  number  of  the  women,  seeing 
that  I  was  in  a  mask,  urged  me  to  partake  of  refreshments  with 
them.  After  a  short  stay  one  of  our  party,  who  was  a  deacon 
in  good  standing  at  home,  became  frightened  at  the  demoraliza- 
tion around  him  and  proposed  to  go.  We  then  went  to  the 
Theatre  des  Varietes,  where  the  largest  of  all  the  balls  was  to 
take  place.  It  was  raining  hard.  The  cafes  were  so  crowded 
with  figures  in  masks  that  it  was  impossible  to  enter.  We  found 
a  great  mass  of  people  at  the  door  of  the  theatre,  struggling 
desperately  for  admission.  Making  a  bold  push  into  the  midst 
of  it,  we  were  soon  taken  off  our  feet  and  swept  along  without 
power  to  resist.  It  was  over  half  an  hour  before  we  got  inside, 
and  then  sadly  squeezed  and  deranged,  both  without  and  within. 
The  building  was  arranged  so  as  to  form  one  large  dancing-hall, 
as  in  the  Opera  Comique  ;  and  a  stairway  led  from  the  pit  to  the 
boxes,  which  were  full  of  spectators  in  masks.  The  floor  of  the 
house  presented  the  most  extraordinary  scene  I  had  ever  beheld : 
men  and  women  in  every  possible  variety  of  bizarre  and  fan- 
tastic disguise  —  fisherwomen  and  broom-girls,  men  with  brushes 
and  men  with  syringes.  The  rush  to  the  pit  grew  greater  and 
greater,  and  the  staircase  soon  became  impassable ;  while  one 
or  two  fellows  with  noses  two  feet  long  amused  themselves 
with  pitching  those  at  the  top  of  it  down  heels  over  head. 
During  the  dancing  the  spectators  were  unable  to  move  from 
the  spots  they  occupied.  Our  friend  the  deacon,  again  startled 
by  the  improprieties  which  threatened  to  engulf  him  both  now 
and  hereafter,  again  proposed  to  leave.  This  was  at  one  o'clock ; 
but  two  hours  after  we  found  him  well  flattened  out,  red  as 
a  lobster  and  very  near  his  starting-point.  He  said  he  had 
made  repeated  efforts  to  mount  the  staircase,  but  had  been 
pushed  violently  back  every  time.  On  this  we  made  a  united 
attack,  scaled  the  rampart,  and  carried  him  up  with  us.  It  was 
nearly  as  difficult  to  quit  the  building  as  it  had  been  to  enter  it. 
We  were  obliged  to  pass  under  the  arm  of  a  sentinel,  and  were 
immediately  received  by  a  crowd  who,  not  being  able  to  get 
into  the  theatre,  were  indemnifying  themselves  by  commenting 


BALLS.  155 

on  those  who  had  been  more  lucky  than  they  had  been.     We 
reached  home  at  five  A.  m." 

"  February  20.  —  Another  ball  at  the  Opera,  though  less 
amusing  than  its  predecessors,  as  the  performers  were  all  in 
black  dominoes  and  belonged  largely  to  the  better  classes  and 
had  come  merely  as  spectators." 

"  February  28.  —  Attended  a  large  charity  ball  given  by  the 
Princess  Adelaide,  sister  of  the  king.  Went  there  at  twelve, 
and  was  forced  to  dawdle  along  for  an  hour  and  a  half  before 
my  carriage  drew  up  in  front  of  the  large  square  before  the 
hotel.  I  was  first  ushered  into  a  large  hall,  where,  for  a  fee  of 
ten  sous,  I  was  able  to  deposit  my  cloak  with  the  waiters. 
Thereupon  I  was  left  to  make  my  way  as  I  best  could.  The 
crowd  was  so  immense  as  to  veto  all  attempts  to  move  while 
dancing  was  going  on.  The  heat  was  really  awful,  and,  as  I 
entered,  seemed  to  singe  my  very  hair.  There  were  three  large 
salons  on  each  side  of  the  hall  of  entrance,  fine,  but  nothing 
remarkably  splendid  about  them ;  the  ladies  as  usual,  none  of 
them  pretty,  though  of  the  best  class  socially.  After  stewing 
in  this  crowd  for  two  hours  I  made  my  escape,  determined  to 
give  a  wide  berth  to  such  entertainments  in  future.  This  was 
the  end  of  my  first  Carnival  abroad." 

"May  19.  —  The  grippe  has  made  an  attack  on  us  during  the 
past  week,  and  a  hundred  thousand  people  were  prostrated  by 
it  on  a  single  day.  It  generally  begins  with  a  sore  throat  and 
pains  in  the  body,  as  if  the  patient  had  been  severely  beaten. 
The  former  is  the  severer  symptom.  The  attack  seldom  lasts 
longer  than  two  or  three  days,  when  the  patient  is  left  in  a  very 
weak  state.  I  have  not  yet  suffered  from  it,  though  I  have 
had  a  slight  rheum.  My  health  was  never  better  than  now, 
which  doubtless  is  the  result  of  my  constant  movement  and 
occupation." 

Dr.  Warren  was  the  most  faithful  and  conscientious  of 
correspondents,  and  while  in  Europe  never  failed  to  write 
long  and  frequently  to  his  family  at  home,  especially  to 
his  father.  To  him  he  sent  invariably  once  a  week  at 
least  eight  or  ten  pages  well  crammed  with  the  results  of 
his  professional  studies  and  observations,  minutely  and  in- 
telligently described  and  of  great  value  in  those  days, 


156  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

when  every  form  of  intercourse  between  Europe  and 
America  wras  so  slight  and  uncertain.  That  he  should 
have  done  this  in  the  midst  of  his  incessant  labors  and 
the  numberless  other  demands  upon  his  time,  shows  well 
his  strong  sense  of  duty,  his  affection  for  his  father,  and 
that  interest  which  he  ever  felt  in  his  own  progress 
towards  excellence.  Though  his  letters  are  generally 
devoted  to  matters  connected  with  his  work,  and  are  for 
the  most  part  of  no  value  to  the  ordinary  reader,  there 
are  some  which  prove  that  he  really  felt  a  lively  concern 
in  many  other  subjects,  social,  political,  scientific,  what- 
ever they  might  be,  to  which  from  time  to  time  his 
attention  was  drawn.  Everywhere  the  reader  is  im- 
pressed with  his  feeling  of  accountability  for  the  manner 
in  which  his  time  was  spent,  and  with  his  eager  desire 
that  the  advantages  he  was  enjoying  should  be  improved 
to  the  utmost.  Everywhere  one  notices  the  outcome  of 
that  affection  which  never  ceased  to  draw  him  towards 
his  home  and  friends,  and  of  that  patriotic  love  for  his 
country  and  pride  in  her  institutions  which  not  only  wrere 
becoming  to  him  as  a  citizen,  but  were  particularly  suited 
to  the  illustrious  name  he  bore  and  to  the  great  deeds 
which  it  recalled. 

The  brave  and  spirited  stand  taken  by  President  Jack- 
son, in  1832,  in  behalf  of  the  Union  and  against  the 
Nullification  measures  of  the  South  excited  a  tempest  of 
feeling  which  reached  even  to  the  opposite  shores  of  the 
Atlantic.  Writing  to  his  father  under  date  of  March  20, 
1833,  when  the  final  action  of  South  Carolina  was  not 
yet  known  in  Europe  and  the  United  States  seemed  on 
the  verge  of  civil  "war,  Dr.  Warren  says  :  — 

"  The  affairs  of  America  are  now  regarded  here  with  the  most 
intense  interest,  not  only  by  the  Americans  themselves,  but  by 
France  and  England  and  the  European  powers  generally.  The 
English  have  taken  particular  pains  to  represent  the  situation 
of  our  country  in  the  worst  possible  view.     Our  institutions 


POLITICAL   ASPECTS.  157 

always  seem  to  irritate  them  like  a  thorn,  and  our  late  dissen- 
sions have  given  them  a  pleasure  which  they  find  it  difficult  to 
conceal.  '  We  had  thought,'  said  one  of  their  journals  the  other 
day,  '  that  a  republic  bounded  on  one  side  by  a  forest  and  on 
the  other  by  the  ocean  might  perhaps  keep  together,  but  now 
we  are  convinced,  by  the  fair  trial  of  it  in  the  United  States,  that 
it  is  impossible.'  We  are  in  hopes  that  the  next  news  from 
home  will  disappoint  all  these  speculations.  An  American  trav- 
elling abroad  learns  how  to  value  his  own  excellent  form  of  gov- 
ernment. The  French  at  present  appear  to  be  fast  verging 
upon  the  same  state  of  things  as  before  their  last  revolution. 
Louis  Philippe  has  entirely  disappointed  the  expectations  of  the 
Republican  party.  He  is  now  trying  every  means  to  strengthen 
his  position,  and  forty  thousand  picked  troops  are  stationed  in 
and  around  Paris.  These  are  well  paid,  and  are  entirely  at  the 
disposal  of  the  king  and  his  ministers.  The  three  prominent 
political  parties  are  (1)  the  Juste  Milieu,  or  government  party, 
which  is  the  strongest  in  point  of  numbers ;  (2)  the  Carlist ; 
and  (8)  the  Republican,  which,  although  the  least  numerous, 
is  the  most  devoted  and  ready  to  stand  by  its  principles.  To 
this  belong  all  the  lower  classes  and  the  most  of  the  young  men. 
Poor  Lafayette  has  much  changed  since  he  was  in  America,  and 
his  usual  gay  manner  has  become  sad  and  sober  from  the  way  in 
which  he  has  been  duped  by  the  king.  There  is  no  doubt  that 
if  he  had  wished  it  he  could  have  been  the  president  of  a  new 
republic." 

The  chief  drawback  to  Dr.  Warren's  correspondence 
was  his  handwriting.  The  cunning  that  he  displayed 
with  the  knife  unhappily  did  not  extend  to  the  pen. 
The  mere  mechanism  of  writing  was  always  irksome  to 
him,  and  this  was  probably  aggravated  by  the  fact  that 
his  want  of  a  college  education  prevented  him  from  ever 
attaining  any  fluency  of  composition.  His  manuscript 
suggested  at  times  the  tracks  of  a  crab  across  the  sand ; 
and  the  gaps  that  yawned  here  and  there  demanded  a 
vivid  fancy  and  good  powers  of  generalization,  combined 
with  a  decided  sense  of  interest  in  the  writer,  to  fill  them 
out  intelligibly.     To  his  father's  weak  eyes  these  epistles 


158  JONATHAN   MAS  OX   WARREN. 

were  peculiarly  harassing ;  and  he  often,  in  spite  of  his 
well-known  energy  and  his  real  anxiety  to  make  out  the 
contents,  gave  himself  up  to  despair  as  he  hovered  over 
the  tangled  intricacy,  and  none  the  less  from  their  con- 
trast with  his  own  clear  and  firm  characters.  Under  date 
of  Sept.  10,  1834,  he  writes  to  his  son :  — 

"  Your  last  letter  from  Dublin  I  read  with  great  pleasure,  and  it 
is  almost  the  only  one  of  your  letters  which  I  have  been  able  to 
read  through.  The  contents  of  many  of  them  are,  I  very  much 
regret  to  say,  not  to  be  deciphered  by  my  eyes.  Sometimes 
I  have  thought  of  employing  a  person  to  copy  the  whole  in  a 
handsome  hand,  but  the  exposure  of  a  private  correspondence 
has  prevented  me.  Had  your  letters  all  been  written  in  a  hand 
like  the  last,  they  would  have  been  a  great  source  of  pleasure 
as  well  as  of  valuable  reference." 

Paris,  Dec.  17,  1832. 

My  dear  Father,  —  I  received  yesterday  with  great  pleas- 
ure your  letter  of  November  7,  and  was  much  gratified  to  read 
your  account  of  the  operations  at  the  Hospital.  You  appear  to 
be  much  better  supplied  with  interesting  cases  than  we  are  at 
the  Hotel  Dieu.  I  have  seen  Dupuytren  operate  but  few  times 
during  the  last  two  months,  three  of  the  most  striking  examples 
being  for  the  stone.  The  latter  patients  were  all  children ;  and 
two  of  them,  when  the  wounds  were  nearly  healed,  were  taken 
with  vomiting,  pain  in  the  abdomen,  etc.  On  being  examined 
pieces  of  stone  were  found  ;  the  incisions  were  reopened  and  the 
calculi  extracted.  This  negligence  in  not  searching  the  bladder 
for  any  possible  fragments  at  the  end  of  the  operation  I  can  only 
attribute  to  the  vanity  of  Dupuytren,  who  likes  to  make  a  show 
and  is  commonly  talking  all  the  time.  As  soon  as  the  stone  is 
apparently  taken  out,  which  is  ordinarily  effected  in  about  two 
minutes,  he  is  apt  "to  think  the  operation  completed  and  send 
the  patient  away. 

Dupuytren's  performances  are  always  brilliant,  and  his  diag- 
nosis sometimes  wonderful.1     As  a  lecturer  he  is  unequalled. 

1  Despite  the  dazzling  achievements  of  the  French  surgeons,  those  of  our  own 
country  were  by  no  means  inferior,  even  at  this  period.  The  operations  of  Dr. 
Valentine  Mott  fully  equalled  in  skill  and  daring  those  of  Dupuytren  and  his  con- 


SUEGICAL   PECULIAKITIES.  159 

I  rarely  miss  him  on  these  occasions,  though  I  am  often  tempted 
to  do  so  in  order  to  see  Roux  at  La  Charite,  where  the  opera- 
tions are  most  numerous  and  beautifully  done.  I  have  not  yet 
called  on  Dupuytren,  as  he  can  be  of  no  advantage  to  me  yet. 
When  I  know  the  language  better  I  wish  to  ask  him  some  ques- 
tions, and  shall  then  make  my  way  to  him.  He  is  not  usually 
very  gracious  to  those  who  bring  letters.  I  saw  an  Englishman 
present  one  at  the  hospital  the  other  day,  of  which  for  some 
time  no  notice  was  taken.  When  he  had  finally  taken  the  trou- 
ble to  read  it,  which  he  did  very  deliberately,  Dupuytren  looked 
at  the  bearer  over  his  shoulder,  said  he  was  happy  to  see  him, 
threw  the  letter  down,  and  walked  into  the  next  hall.  I  shall 
attack  him  in  his  home,  where  there  is  no  escape,  though  he 
will  no  doubt  be  very  gracious  to  one  recommended  by  Sir 
Astley  Cooper,  with  whom  he  spent  two  or  three  weeks  in 
England. 

I  am  told,  though  I  know  not  how  true  it  is,  that  out  of  thirty 
amputations  at  La  Charite*  but  six  have  recovered.  This  is  not 
the  fault  of  the  operations,  which  are  done  in  a  most  masterly 
manner,  but  probably  arises  from  the  great  suppuration  caused 
by  so  many  ligatures.  They  do  not  understand  here  what 
healthy  inflammation  is ;  and  as  to  the  wounds  healing  by  the 
first  intention,  they  never  think  of  it.  I  have  not  yet  been  able 
to  attend  Lisfranc,  as  I  cannot  wander  from  one  hospital  to 
another.  I  shall  spend  a  month  or  two  at  his  place  in  the  sum- 
mer. He  is  boisterous,  sometimes  vulgar,  but  good-natured  to 
the  students  and  entirely  unlike  Dupuytren,  who  always  looks 
like  a  bear,  and  if  any  one  irritates  him  breaks  out  very  fiercely. 
He  speaks  of  the  latter  with  little  ceremony,  using  such  epithets 

freres,  audacious  as  these  often  were;  and  when  Sir  Astley  Cooper  said,  "Dr.  Mott 
has  performed  more  of  the  great  operations  than  any  man  living  or  that  ever  did 
live,"  he  seems  to  have  uttered  the  simple  truth.  Dr.  Mott  went  the  round  of  the 
French  hospitals  during  his  visit  to  Paris  in  1835 ;  but  he  could  have  met  with  few  of 
his  profession  from  whom  he  could  greatly  benefit,  while  his  own  talents  extorted 
the  admiration  of  even  the  most  jealous  critics. 

Dr.  John  C.  Warren  was  in  Paris  two  years  after  Dr.  Mott  and  then  wrote  : 
"  Velpeau,  and  other  surgeons  as  well,  expressed  surprise  at  the  operations  per- 
formed in  this  country ;  and  after  questioning  me  in  regard  to  the  authenticity  of 
various  accounts,  he  desired  a  written  statement  of  those  I  had  performed,  certified 
by  signature.  Just  before  I  left  London  I  received  a  note  from  Mr.  Guthrie,  for- 
merly an  army  surgeon,  now  one  of  the  most  distinguished  in  London,  in  which  he 
says,  '  I  know  not  how  it  is,  but  our  surgeons  do  not  seem  inclined  to  undertake 
these  formidable  operations.' " 


160  JONATHAN   MASON    WARREN. 

as  "le  brigand  de  la  Seine,"  "  le  voleur,"  and  others  equally 
polite  when  referring  to  him.  On  Thursday  and  Sunday,  when 
we  have  no  lecture  from  Dupuytren,  I  generally  attend  Rostan 
or  Chomel,  whose  clinical  lectures  at  the  bedside  are  excellent. 
Sunday  is  the  best  day  for  the  hospital,  as  the  students  then 
sleep  till  ten  o'clock. 

In  your  last  letter  you  mention  the  death  of  the  much  ad- 
mired Spurzheim.  Just  after  its  receipt  I  was  buying  for  you  a 
finely  marked  Caucasian  head  phrenologically  mapped  out,  when 
I  spoke  of  the  sad  event  to  the  shopkeeper.  At  first  he  would 
not  believe  me  ;  but  when  I  gave  him  the  particulars  he  could 
scarcely  keep  from  crying,  and  said  "  C'est  une  tres  grande 
perte."  The  next  day  he  came  up  to  Bowditch  with  the  sec- 
retary of  the  Phrenological  Society  in  order  to  learn  further 
details  which  Bowditch  had  received  from  his  brother. 

On  the  13th  of  April,  1833,  Dr.  Warren  wrote  to  his 
'  father :  — 

"  Our  courses  of  lectures  for  the  winter  at  the  School  of 
Medicine  have  just  terminated,  and  I  have  decided  to  go  over 
to  London  for  the  summer  and  return  to  Paris  to  spend  the 
next  winter.  I  have  come  to  this  resolution  only  after  very  long 
and  careful  consideration  of  the  course  most  profitable  for  me  to 
pursue  during  the  rest  of  my  stay  in  Europe,  and  after  taking 
the  advice  of  most  of  my  friends.  I  will  try  to  give  you  my 
plans  exactly,  with  the  reasons  that  have  led  me  to  adopt  them, 
and  I  hope  they  will  meet  with  your  approbation.  On  my  first 
arrival  here  I  found  that  if  I  was  to  study  with  any  advantage, 
I  ought  to  devote  myself  to  one  branch,  either  surgery  or  medi- 
cine, as  it  was  impossible  to  follow  both  and  at  the  same  time 
accomplish  the  necessary  reading.  I  thought  it  best  to  take  up 
the  former  at  first,  and  gave  myself  more  especially  to  that, 
though  I  did  not  entirely  neglect  medicine,  as  I  attended  the 
lectures  of  Andral  and  others  whom  I  have  mentioned. 

"  By  going  to  London  in  the  summer  I  do  not  think  I  shall 
lose  much  here.  The  principal  thing  is  the  lectures,  though  the 
study  of  disease  at  the  bedside  is  a  most  important  object ;  and 
this  can  be  better  followed  up  in  summer  than  in  winter,  as 
there  are  less  students  in  the  hospitals.  The  same  remark 
applies  to  diseases  of  the  eye,  to  which  I  shall  give  particular 


PROFESSIONAL   PLANS.  161 

attention  in  England.  My  present  design  is  to  leave  Paris  in 
the  middle  of  May,  or  as  soon  as  I  have  ended  the  private 
courses  with  which  I  am  now  occupied,  —  that  is,  Amussat  on 
Lithotrity  and  lesion  of  arteries,  a  course  of  operative  surgery, 
and  a  third  on  bandaging.  This  will  occupy  all  my  time  for 
five  Weeks  to  come.  Paris  offers  much  greater  prospects  for 
study  than  London,  from  the  great  number  of  public  hospitals 
and  lectures,  and  particularly  for  the  private  courses,  which  in 
certain  branches  are  very  valuable.  Their  practice  of  medicine 
and  surgery  I  think  little  of.  It  seems  to  be  more  an  object  to 
study  the  natural  history  of  disease  and  to  perform  an  operation 
beautifully  and  quickly,  than  to  save  the  life  of  a  patient.  On 
this  account  I  think  every  student  should  see  the  English  prac- 
tice after  his  studies  in  Paris,  as  one  is  apt  to  fall  into  the 
French  method  from  simple  ignorance  of  any  other." 

Notwithstanding  Dr.  Warren's  mature  consideration 
and  final  adoption  of  the  plan  set  forth  in  the  above  let- 
ter, further  thought  at  length  induced  him  to  change  it 
materially,  the  reasons  wlierefor  he  gives  as  follows  :  — 

May  19, 1833. 
On  my  first  arrival  here  I  determined  to  spend  a  year  in 
Paris,  five  months  in  London,  and  then,  with  your  permis- 
sion, to  pass  the  last  summer  before  my  return  home  in  a 
tour  through  Italy  and  Switzerland.  I  have  adhered  to  this 
plan  till  now,  with  the  exception  of  allotting  my  five  months 
in  England  to  the  summer  instead  of  the  winter,  that  I  might 
follow  Louis  and  enjoy  the  advantages  which  Paris  offers 
during  the  winter.  Having  thus  decided,  I  was  just  on  the 
point  of  leaving  here  for  England,  when  all  the  various  courses 
of  natural  history,  comparative  anatomy,  geology,  etc.,  were 
announced  and  set  me  to  thinking  in  what  way  I  could  attend 
these  important  branches  of  my  education  here.  The  only 
means  I  could  find  were  to  give  up  the  idea  of  spending  the 
next  summer  in  Italy  and  transfer  it  to  England.  I  shall  there- 
fore pass  the  summer  in  Paris  until  the  September  vacation,  and 
then,  with  your  permission,  go  to  Switzerland.  If  I  have  time 
during  the  two  months  that  will  intervene  before  the  winter 
courses  begin,  I  propose  to  go  into  the  north  of  Italy,  return  to 
Paris  by  the  first  week  in  November,  and  there  remain  through 

11 


162  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

the  winter,  going  over  to  England  in  the  spring  sufficiently  early 
to  hear  Tyrrel's  lectures,  and  there  employing  the  five  months 
previous  to  my  going  home  to  Boston.  This  is  the  best  and 
most  economical  manner  I  can  suggest  for  the  disposal  of  my 
time,  and  I  trust  you  will  think  as  I  do  in  regard  to  it. 

As  Dr.  "Warren's  father  offered  no  objection  to  the 
above  plan,  but  rather  approved  of  it,  his  son  made  his 
arrangements  accordingly.  Having  secured  the  signa- 
tures of  some  dozens  of  diplomats,  great  and  small,  to  his 
passport,  he  left  Paris  on  the  4th  of  August,  1833,  for 
Geneva  with  four  of  his  friends,  —  one  of  them  Dr.  Robert 
Hooper,  of  whom  he  saw  much  in  Paris ;  and  another  the 
son  of  Mr.  William  Lawrence  from  his  own  city.  Two 
occupied  the  coupe  of  the  diligence,  and  three  the  inte- 
rior. Even  in-  this  age  of  rapid  and  luxurious  motion 
travel  is  not  wholly  void  of  discomforts,  and  fifty  years 
since  the  vexations  were  many  and  wearisome.  With 
Dr.  Warren  and  his  party  these  began  at  the  outstart. 
He  writes :  — 

"  Our  journey  from  Paris  to  Geneva  was  one  of  the  most  tedi- 
ous that  I  ever  experienced.  We  were  obliged  to  ride  night  and 
day  for  three  days  and  four  nights,  stopping  only  at  irregular 
hours  to  eat  and  drink,  dining  sometimes  at  two,  at  others  eleven 
at  night.  It  is  almost  impossible  to  get  any  quiet  sleep  in  a  dili- 
gence, the  motion  being  unpleasant,  and  the  roads  for  most  of 
the  way  being  paved  on  account  of  the  softness  of  the  soil." 

From  Geneva  Dr.  Warren  and  his  party  went  to  Cha- 
monix,  thence  to  the  Monastery  of  St.  Bernard,  to  Berne, 
Interlaken,  and  many  of  the  most  attractive  portions  of 
Switzerland,  until,  they  had  become  well  acquainted  with 
the  grandeur  and  beauty  of  its  scenery.  On  the  first 
day  of  September  they  crossed  the  Alps  by  the  Spltigen 
Pass  and  proceeded  to  Milan,  taking  the  Lake  of  Como 
on  their  way. 

"  After  remaining  a  week  in  Milan  waiting  for  our  trunks, 
which  had  been  despatched  three  weeks  before  from  Berne,  and 


CONTINENTAL   TRAVELS.  163 

having  had  a  continual  rain  for  five  or  six  days,  we  finally  took 
,a  vetturino  for  Venice,  who  was  to  be  eight  days  on  the  road." 

Having  slowly  made  his  way  to  Venice  through  Ve- 
rona, Padua,  and  other  places  of  interest,  Dr.  Warren 
spent  a  week  there  and  then  returned  to  Milan,  from 
which  he  went  by  diligence  to  Parma,  Bologne,  and  finally 
to  Florence.  After  a  stay  of  a  week  he  continued  his 
route  to  Siena,  and  thence  to  Rome,  which  he  entered  on 
the  5th  of  October,  and  took  rooms  at  No.  66  Via  di 
Ripetta.  A  fortnight  later  saw  him  on  his  road  to  Naples, 
from  which  after  a  short  season  he  took  a  steamer  for 
Marseilles.  On  the  31st  of  October  he  quitted  this  city 
for  Paris  by  way  of  Lyons,  and  early  in  November  found 
himself  again  hard  at  work  in  the  schools  and  hospitals. 

Of  the  letters  written  by  Dr.  Warren  during  this  tour 
but  one,  unfortunately,  has  been  preserved.  It  announces 
his  arrival  in  Rome,  and  will  serve  to  show,  at  least,  that 
he  never  omitted  any  chance  for  professional  improvement. 

Rome,  Oct.  6,  1833. 

My  dear  Father,  —  After  a  very  pleasant  week  spent  at 
Florence,  we  left  there  on  the  last  day  of  September,  and  arrived 
in  Rome  at  the  end  of  a  five  days'  journey.  During  the  short 
stay  which  I  made  in  Florence  I  had  time  to  see  everything  of 
consequence.  I  passed  an  hour  or  two  each  day  in  the  galleries, 
though  a  month  or  two  might  be  profitably  occupied  in  studying 
the  works  of  celebrated  ancient  artists  here  preserved.  Among 
other  interesting  objects,  there  is  the  splendid  collection  of  wax- 
work so  often  mentioned,  -which  far  surpassed  my  expectations. 
It  consists  of  a  great  number  of  preparations  of  different  parts 
of  the  human  body,  arranged  in  numerous  galleries.  It  com- 
mences with  the  bones  and  muscles,  a  separate  preparation 
being  devoted  to  each  muscle,  after  which  come  the  arteries, 
veins,  nerves,  lymphatics,  etc.  The  internal  organs  were  very 
fine,  particularly  the  heart,  showing  the  valves.  There  were 
also  a  large  number  of  illustrations  in  comparative  anatomy, 
perfectly  executed. 


164  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

The  famous  representation  of  the  plague  proved  to  be,  not  a 
portrayal  of  the  various  stages  of  the  disease,  as  is  generally 
supposed,  but  of  its  effects.  It  is  contained  in  four  mahogany 
boxes  about  four  feet  square.  The  first  shows  the  city  just 
after  the  pest,  the  bodies  lying  piled  one  upon  another  in  con- 
fused heaps,  men,  women,  and  children,  some  just  dead,  others 
slightly  tinged  with  green.  In  the  second  box  the  figures  are 
on  a  smaller  scale,  and  as  they  appeared  some  five  or  six  months 
after  death,  when  time  had  begun  to  tell  upon  them.  Here  one 
sees  the  effect  of  heat  and  exposure  on  the  dead.  One  turned 
green  is  merely  swollen,  but  not  yet  decayed.  From  others  the 
heads  or  extremities  have  rotted  off,  while  the  gorged  worms 
in  alarming  numbers,  preying  on  the  interior,  are  distinctly 
observed,  and  here  and  there  a  rat  has  made  his  way  into  a  half- 
putrid  body  and  is  dragging  out  the  entrails.  The  third  box 
contains  only  a  few  remains,  the  skeletons  stretched  out  and 
covered  with  mould,  most  exquisitely  imitated.  The  whole  col- 
lection surpasses  anything  of  the  kind  that  I  have  ever  seen. 

Before  leaving  the  museum  I  inquired  for  the  workman  at- 
tached to  it,  and  with  some  difficulty  was  admitted  to  his  studio. 
He  proved  to  be  the  same  man  that  did  the  figures  for  you  some 
years  since.  He  showed  me  several  preparations  of  the  eye 
now  on  hand.  He  and  his  father  have  been  employed  here  for 
forty  years.  He  gave  me  his  address,  and  I  inquired  the  means 
to  be  taken  in  case  we  should  need  any  more  preparations. 

From  the  delay  of  my  trunk  at  Milan  I  have  not  yet  met 
any  of  the  medical  men  here,  all  my  letters  being  thus  rendered 
useless.  At  Florence  I  visited  the  great  hospital,  which  con- 
tains six  hundred  beds.  There  is  nothing  remarkable  about  it, 
and  nothing  new  among  their  instruments,  which  they  allowed 
me  to  see.  A  young  man  at  the  hospital  offered  to  introduce 
me  to  Andreini  if  I  would  come  the  next  morning,  but  I  was 
prevented  by  leaving  the  city.  In  Rome  I  shall  be  able  to 
do  more  by  means  of  -the  letters  I  have  to  one  or  two  gentlemen 
here. 

I  had  hoped  to  see  Mr.  Isaac  Grant  in  Florence,  but  he  had 
gone  to  visit  his  brother  in  Leghorn,  where  I  may  perhaps  see 
him,  as  we  touch  there  in  the  steamboat  from  Naples  to  Mar- 
seilles. Mr.  Sears  and  his  boys  I  met  in  Florence.  He  seems 
to  be  in  better  health  than  when  he  left  Paris.     He  met  Mr. 


LETTEK   FROM    ROME.  165 

Phillips  and  Tuckernian  somewhere  on  the  Rhine  on  their  way 
to  Italy. 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving  a  number  of  letters  just  before 
I  left  Florence,  announcing  Sullivan's  return  home  and  yours 
from  the  White  Mountains  in  good  health.  When  I  reach  Paris 
I  will  have  a  drawing  of  the  cab  made  with  its  dimensions,  etc., 
so  that  if  you  decide  to  order  one  from  England,  it  can  be  done 
under  my  own  directions  before  my  departure  for  home. 

I  intend  to  pass  ten  or  twelve  days  here  and  then  leave 
for  Naples,  where  we  take  the  steamer  for  Marseilles  on  the 
28th.  I  shall  be  in  Paris  on  the  5th  of  November  in  season  for 
the  lectures,  which  will  begin  on  the  7th  or  8th.  My  Italian 
journey,  though  rapid,  has  thus  far  been  thorough;  nothing 
which  was  to  be  seen  and  was  worth  seeing  having  been 
allowed  to  escape.  I  hope  to  enjoy  it,  however,  much  more  in 
retrospect  than  at  present,  as  the  quickness  of  movement  and 
the  many  discomforts  of  travelling  necessarily  make  it  some- 
what laborious,  richly  repaid,  though,  by  the  enjoyment  of  those 
fine  works  of  art  when  they  are  reached.  I  shall  write  again 
to  Mamma  in  a  few  days.  My  best  love  to  her  and  to  Sullivan, 
who  I  hope  finds  himself  comfortably  settled. 

With  best  wishes  for  your  continued  health,  I  remain, 
Your  affectionate  son, 

J.  M.  Warren. 


CHAPTER  X. 

SECOND  YEAR  ABROAD.  —  SURGICAL  STUDIES.  —  MINIA- 
TURE. —  DRESS.  BARRICADES. THE  RHINE. HOL- 
LAND   AND   BELGIUM. LONDON. ATTENTIONS    OF   THE 

FACULTY   AND    OTHERS. OPERATIONS. HOSPITALS. 

Dr.  Warren  began  his  second  year  abroad  with  health 
strengthened  by  travel,  with  a  mind  enlarged  by  study 
and  improved  by  experience,  and  with  a  devotion  to  his 
profession  which  daily  increased  as  the  magnitude  of  its 
demands  and  the  vastness  of  its  resources  expanded  before 
him.  From  a  few  of  his  letters  here  given  one  can  per- 
ceive the  nature  of  his  life  in  Paris  during  the  winter  of 
1833-34,  while  the  pursuits  to  which  he  chiefly  directed 
his  attention  will  be  easily  understood  without  much 
comment. 

Paris,  Nov.  22, 1833. 

My  dear  Father,  —  I  at  length  find  myself  settled  down 
here  and  fully  engaged  in  the  attendance  of  hospitals  and  lec- 
tures and  the  studies  connected  with  the  different  courses  that 
I  have  undertaken.  On  my  first  arrival  so  many  things  which 
require  to  be  done  during  the  time  left  for  my  stay  here  crowded 
upon  me  that  I  was  quite  overwhelmed,  and  it  was  only  by  reso- 
lutely selecting  the  most  important  and  giving  myself  up  to 
them  that  I  at  last  got  under  way.  The  advantages  one  enjoys 
in  Paris  are  so  great  and  so  numerous,  that  however  much  one 
may  wish  to  improve  them,  his  intentions  may  be  largely  de- 
feated by  trying  to  accomplish  too  many  things  at  once.  I 
have  thus  come  to  the  conclusion  that  I  must  relinquish  some 
most  important  branches  for  lack  of  time. 

On  my  arrival  here  I  began  at  La  Pitie  with  Louis,  whose 
method  of  examination  I  especially  like.     I  shall  devote  myself 


STJKGICAL    STUDIES.  167 

to  the  stethoscope,  and  hope  to  acquire  some  knowledge  of  it 
in  the  course  of  the  three  or  four  months  which  I  propose  to 
bestow  upon  it.  Strict  and  minute  observation  and  a  close 
study  of  pathological  symptoms  are  the  peculiar  features  of 
Louis's  method.  As  to  therapeutics,  so  far  as  I  can  judge,  he 
is  entirely  a  sceptic. 

The  lectures  I  have  chosen  at  the  School  of  Medicine  are 
those  of  Andral  and  Marjolin.  The  latter's  on  Surgical  Pathol- 
ogy are  without  exception  the  most  thorough  and  the  most 
practical  of  any  I  have  yet  heard.  Marjolin  is  one  of  the  first 
consulting  surgeons  of  Paris,  and  has  accumulated  a  vast  store 
of  facts  valuable  to  the  student.  I  will  occasionally  send  you 
some  of  these  when  they  prove  particularly  interesting.  Those 
in  regard  to  aneurism  are  excellent.  I  followed  Richerand  on 
Surgical  Apparel  and  Observation  again  this  year,  but  only  for 
a  week,  as  he  was  so  prolix,  tiresome,  and  full  of  repetitions 
that  I  thought  my  hours  better  employed  elsewhere  and  left 
him.  He  has  been  much  overrated,  and  since  his  paralytic 
attack,  which  left  him  with  an  indistinct  utterance  and  a  vague 
expression  of  his  ideas,  he  has  become  almost  insufferable.  I 
have  determined  to  go  over  to  St.  Louis  twice  a  week  in  order 
to  study  the  various  diseases  of  the  skin,  and  two  or  three  of  us 
have  begun  a  course  there  with  a  very  intelligent  interne  from 
whom  I  derived  much  benefit  last  year. 

I  get  time  now  and  then  after  Louis's  visit  to  attend  part  of 
Lisfranc's  lecture  and  see  his  operations,  when  there  are  any. 
This  I  shall  continue  till  the  former's  clinique  begins.  I  have 
lately  been  looking  out  at  the  Ecole  Pratique  for  some  of  the 
young  surgeons  to  give  me  a  course  of  surgical  operations. 
After  dinner  I  have  one  on  diseases  of  the  eye  with  my  friend 
Dr.  Sichel  and  others  on  midwifery,  both  of  which  I  shall  at- 
tend during  the  winter.  In  this  way  I  am  pretty  thoroughly 
occupied  till  eight  or  nine  in  the  evening,  and  from  then  till 
twelve  is  all  that  remains  for  reading.  I  had  hoped  also  to 
pursue  the  study  of  syphilis  and  diseases  of  the  uterus,  but  for 
the  present  shall  be  obliged  to  relinquish  them,  though  I  shall 
try  to  attend  to  the  former  in  England,  but  not  so  well  as  here, 
as  they  have  no  hospital  in  London  for  that  disease.  I  expect 
to  be  here  about  five  and  a  half  months  in  all,  and  must  be  in 
England  by  the  first  of  May. 


168  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

Jan.  5,  1834. 

I  am  now  most  busily  employed  from  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, when  my  servant  brings  me  my  demi-tasse  of  coffee  and 
lights  my  candle,  —  the  only  way  I  find  in  these  dark  winter 
days  to  wake  up,  —  until  twelve  at  night.  I  occasionally  get 
over  the  other  side  of  the  river  into  society,  but  with  somewhat 
of  an  effort,  as  it  interferes  with  other  and  more  important 
affairs. 

Will  you  kindly  give  my  best  love  to  Mamma  ?  As  I  find 
myself  in  another  year,  it  seems  as  if  I  had  passed  the  Rubicon 
and  surmounted  a  great  obstacle  placed  between  me  and  my 
return  to  my  friends.  That  it  may  be  my  good  fortune  on  my 
return  to  meet  you  in  good  health  is  the  earnest  wish  of  your 
affectionate  son. 

Jan.  25,  1834. 

I  shall  leave  for  London  about  the  first  of  May ;  and  my  pres- 
ent plan  is  to  pass  six  or  seven  weeks  there,  then  cross  to  Dublin 
and  embark  the  1st  or  10th  of  August  from  Liverpool,  in  order 
to  avoid  the  September  gales,  according  to  the  advice  you  so 
kindly  gave  me  in  the  little  book  of  instructions  before  my 
departure  from  home.  I  should  have  liked  to  remain  longer  in 
London,  as  I  expect  much  benefit  from  my  studies  there  and 
from  the  letters  you  sent  me.  I  feel  every  way  better  prepared 
to  profit  by  them  now  than  on  my  former  visit.  If  I  do  prolong 
my  stay  there,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  defer  my  voyage  home  till 
October,  though  in  this  matter  I  shall  be  entirely  guided  by 
you.  I  suspect,  however,  that  as  the  time  approaches  I  shall 
begin  to  be  anxious  to  sail,  and  quite  unwilling  to  let  any  ob- 
stacle interfere  with  my  departure.  Already  the  tone  of  my 
late  letters  from  home  seems  to  suggest  a  certain  gloom  in  the 
family,  especially  of  those  from  Mamma,  which  indicate  a  relapse 
from  her  former  spirits.  These  have  excited  in  me  a  decided 
longing  to  be  again  in  my  native  land,  though  I  am  still  drawn 
in  the  opposite  direction  by  the  objects  for  which  I  came  here 
and  which  should  be  accomplished  before  my  return. 

In  your  letters  you  express  a  wish  that  I  should  leave  here  in 
August,  though  you  allow  me  to  remain  later  if  I  desire.  I 
cannot  help  recording  my  deep  sense  of  the  kind,  liberal,  and 
unrestrained  trust  you  have  reposed  in  me  both  in  regard  to  my 
expenses  and  my  movements  since  I  came  abroad,  so  that  I  have 


MINIATURE.  169 

been  able  to  employ  my  time  to  much  greater  advantage  than  I 
should  otherwise  have  done.  I  hope  you  will  not  think  I  have 
wasted  it ;  I  certainly  have  done  the  best  I  could  with  it,  accord- 
ing to  my  judgment. 

I  often  think  of  the  good  I  should  obtain  from  another  winter 
in  Europe.  The  days  slip  by  so  fast  that  many  studies  are 
necessarily  crowded  together,  but  I  am  well  aware  that  if  I  con- 
tinued here  the  time  would  be  spent  in  great  anxiety.  If  any- 
thing were  10  happen  to  the  family,  I  should  never  be  able  to 
forgive  myself  for  my  protracted  absence.  To  judge  from  my 
present  feelings,  I  shall  doubtless  return  this  year.  I  am  in- 
clined to  think  it  will  be  difficult  for  me  to  finish  what  I  wish 
to  do  before  the  first  of  October.  This  would  make  it  late  for 
me  to  take  any  active  part  in  the  dissecting-room  next  winter, 
though  this  I  should  really  prefer  to  avoid,  as  I  do  not  consider 
myself  sufficiently  prepared  in  anatomy  to  undertake  a  work 
which,  once  begun,  should  be  thoroughly  done.  For  the  last 
two  years  I  have  hardly  had  a  knife  in  my  hands,  except  for 
surgical  anatomy,  and  as  yet  I  hardly  feel  equal  to  the  require- 
ments of  the  dissecting-room. 

Everything  would  seem  to  indicate  that  at  this  period 
Dr.  "Warren's  bodily  health  was  particularly  good,  and 
quite  as  vigorous  as  that  of  his  mind.  Mrs.  Warren  has 
now  in  her  possession  a  portrait  of  her  husband,  clone  on 
ivory,  by  Pierre  D'augbigny,1  in  1834,  and  designed  as  a 
present  to  his  mother.  This  artist  was  then  in  the  high- 
est repute,  both  for  the  accuracy  of  his  likenesses  and 
for  their  artistic  merit  and  admirable  finish.  His  abilities 
insured  him  a  numerous  clientele,  chiefly  from  the  rich, 

1  This  is  the  form  in  which  Pierre  D'aubigny  inscribed  his  name  on  the  back  of 
the  miniature,  where  one  may  still  read  it.  The  use  of  the  apostrophe  is  hard  to 
understand,  as  it  was  not  customary  with  his  kinsmen.  He  belonged  to  a  family 
of  artistic  temperament,  and  noted  for  taste  and  skill.  His  brother  Edme  Francois 
Daubigny  was  an  eminent  landscape-painter,  and  father  of  the  celebrated  Charles 
Francois  Daubigny,  so  widely  known  in  our  own  day.  The  wife  of  Pierre,  nee 
Amelie  Dantel,  was  equally  distinguished  with  himself  as  a  miniaturist ;  and  so 
was  her  sister,  Mile.  Henriette-Virginie  Dantel.  These  were  all  highly  esteemed 
in  the  French  capital,  and  the  numerous  celebrities  who  sat  to  them  bore  witness 
to  their  popularity.  In  1833  Pierre  was  awarded  a  gold  medal  for  his  exhibit  at 
the  salon ;  and  in  the  following  year  his  wife  was  similarly  honored. 


170  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN". 

of  course,  as  in  those  days  comparatively  few  could  afford 
to  spend  five  hundred  francs  for  a  work  of  that  nature. 
He  appears  to  have  been  very  popular  with  Americans ; 
and  several  friends  of  Dr.  Warren  took  advantage  of  this 
opportunity,  and  ordered  their  portraits  for  the  benefit  of 
their  relatives  at  home,  —  an  attention  more  significant  and 
more  appreciated  when  daguerreotypes  had  not  been  in- 
vented, nor  any  of  the  various  other  means,  now  so  abun- 
dant, for  representing  the  human  face.  The  portrait  in 
question  is  especially  interesting,  as  the  first  ever  taken 
of  Dr.  Warren,  and  as  the  pioneer  of  a  long  line  of  such 
works  still  in  existence,  which  enable  one  to  trace  with 
accuracy  the  gradual  change  in  his  features  and  expres- 
sion, from  youth  to  age.  As  they  were  invariably  clone 
by  the  best  artists  of  their  time,  they  are  yet,  for  the 
most  part,  in  excellent  condition,  and  also  offer  a  most 
suggestive  record  of  the  progress  made  in  this  depart- 
ment of  science,  from  the  fascinating  masterpieces  of  the 
limners  on  ivory  to  the  first  faint  dawnings  of  Daguerre, 
when  all  portraits  by  his  process  were  taken  with  the 
eyes  shut,  and  thence  to  the  marvellous  photographic 
achievements  of  our  own  day.  Dr.  Warren  had  a  decided 
weakness  for  multiplying  likenesses  of  himself,  and  this 
grew  with  advancing  years,  though  he  was  void  of  selfish 
vanity  in  the  matter,  and  rarely  sat  alone,  but  generally 
displayed  his  natural  affection  by  requesting  the  company 
of  his  children  or  grandchild. 

All  those  who  saw  or  knew  Dr.  Warren  as  he  appeared 
when  he  sat  to  D'aubigny  have  invariably  declared  the 
artist's  effort  a  successful  one,  true  to  nature  in  feature 
and  expression,  and  with  no  attempt  to  flatter.  It  is 
pretty  obvious  from  this  that  Dr.  Warren's  life  in  Paris 
agreed  with  him,  that  he  was  capable  of  much  hard  and 
long-continued  labor,  and  that,  even  in  spite  of  paternal 
advice  and  experience,  his  theory  in  regard  to  the  use  of 
wine  may  have  been  correct.     At  that  time  he  must  have 


DEESS.  171 

had  a  winning  aspect,  with  fair  complexion,  full  cheeks, 
bright  eyes,  and  a  look  of  genial  intelligence  and  sym- 
pathy which  goes  far  to  explain  his  popularity  with  his 
associates.  Every  trace  of  dyspepsia,  loss  of  mental  tone, 
or  other  ailment  had  disappeared,  with  every  other  sug- 
gestion of  a  weak  constitution.  One  detects  nothing  but 
florid  health  in  every  feature ;  and  the  young  physician 
stands  before  us  in  his  habit  as  he  lived,  one  of  the  ele- 
gants of  the  period,  who  would  have  been  a  credit  to  any 
age  or  nation.  As  to  the  dress,  it  is  characteristic  of 
those  tastes  which  he  displayed  in  this  matter  from  his 
earliest  youth,  and  which  he  never  lost,  even  in  face  of 
the  obstacles  created  by  a  profession  which  at  times 
hardly  admits  of  personal  cleanliness.  While  in  Paris, 
notwithstanding  his  engrossing  and  continuous  occupa- 
tions, he  still  exhibited  that  fastidious  neatness  and  refine- 
ment which  he  could  not  live  without.  He  was,  in  truth, 
one  who  must  have  everything  handsome  about  him  ;  and 
this  had  early  become  a  sort  of  ruling  passion,  the  gratifi- 
cation of  which  was  essential  to  his  happiness,  one  might 
almost  say  to  his  existence.  As  to  his  attire  when 
en  fete,  he  reminded  one  of  the  finished  and  ornate 
elegance  of  a  Corinthian  capital.'  His  brother  Sullivan 
was  wont  to  call  him  the  petit  maitre.  He  was  not  slow 
to  avail  himself  of  the  opportunities  which  Paris  afforded 
for  the  adornment  of  his  person,  and  he  easily  yielded 
to  the  temptations  that  beset  him  on  every  side.  In 
the  age  of  the  Directory  he  would  have  been  termed 
an  incroyable,  under  the  Empire  an  agreable ;  and  though 
he  had  no  leisure  to  saunter  along  the  Boulevards,  and 
manifest  his  gracious  presence  to  the  world  of  fashion, 
none  the  less  did  he  feel  constrained  to  indulge  a  pre- 
dilection which  had  come  unsought,  and  which  he  had 
really  inherited  from  his  father,  who  was  always  con- 
spicuous for  a  certain  exceptional  neatness  and  luxury 
of  apparel. 


172  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

To  Dr.  "Warren's  elaborate  make-up  none  but  the  best 
artists  of  Paris  were  allowed  to  contribute,  and  only  such 
did  produce  those  irreproachable  coats  and  trousers,  those 
exquisite  shirts  and  waistcoats,  which  he  wore.  Ruffled 
shirt-fronts  were  then  in  vogue,  and  Dr.  Warren's  were 
something  to  be  remembered  and  rarely  forgotten.  Even 
Beau  Brummel  or  Count  d'Orsay  would  have  gladly 
bestowed  his  approval  upon  this  delicate  expanse  of  the 
finest  linen,  whose  sportive  frivolity  was  fixed  in  per- 
manent expression  by  the  daintiest  prudery  of  starch. 
Over  these  elaborations  the  laundress  sighed  in  despair  as 
she  sought  to  restore  their  first  artistic  features ;  and  she 
continued  to  sigh,  even  after  her  enormous  bill  had  been 
paid.  As  for  Dr.  Warren's  handkerchiefs,  nothing  could 
surpass  the  fineness  of  their  tissue,  or  the  intricate  mys- 
tery of  the  embroidered  initials  that  lurked  in  their  cor- 
ners. Each  monogram  was  a  chef-d'oeuvre  of  the  needle, 
and  would  have  lent  a  further  grace  to  an  illuminated 
missal,  at  least  so  far  as  its  form  was  concerned.  Dr. 
Warren  liked  to  own  these  without  stint,  and  to  use  them 
in  the  same  measure.  A  fresh  triumph  of  embroidery 
every  day  was  the  very  slightest  limit  he  cared  to  put 
upon  his  enjoyment  of  such  a  trifling  adjunct  to  his  per- 
sonal appearance.  His  waistcoats,  at  that  period  a  promi- 
nent feature  in  the  dress  of  every  exquisite,  were  each  a 
separate  triumph,  of  varied  color  and  design,  richly  embroi- 
dered at  times  and  radiant  with  a  certain  florid  gorgeous- 
ness.  D'aubigny's  portrait,  unfortunately,  fails  to  do  full 
justice  to  the  various  constituents  of  Dr.  Warren's  dress 
in  those  Parisian, days.  For  purposes  of  portraiture,  the 
artist  would  seem  to  have  regarded  the  coat  as  the  only 
essential  element  besides  the  features,  and  to  this  he  sac- 
rificed every  other  attribute  of  his  sitter.  As  it  was  very 
high  in  the  neck,  close-buttoned  in  front,  and  provided 
with  long  sleeves,  neither  shirt-front  nor  wrist-bands  are 
visible ;  and  the  same  is  true  of  the  linen  collar,  which  is 


BARRICADES.  173 

nearly  swallowed  up  by  the  voluminous  coils  of  the  huge 
stock  of  the  period,  which  by  its  height  and  stiffness,  and 
the  attitude  of  constraint  it  imposes  on  the  wearer,  con- 
firms the  reputed  origin  of  its  name.  In  that  age  of 
feather-bed  neck-cloths  and  pillowy  capes,  man  was  more 
obviously  "  a  cloth-animal "  than  now,  and  painters  were 
no  wise  loath  to  make  the  most  of  this  characteristic.  To 
this  treatment  neither  did  Dr.  Warren  object ;  and  as  he 
was  not  a  large  man,  he  was  then,  and  to  the  end  of  his 
days,  quite  willing  to  gain  such  size  and  dignity  as  he 
could  by  enlarging  his  drapery.  Thus  he  always  favored 
the  stock,  cumbrous  as  it  seemed,  and  generally  had  his 
coats  made  much  too  large  for  his  body,  being  conscious 
of  the  effect  of  quantity  as  well  as  quality  of  raiment 
when  worn  by  a  gentleman,  and  sensible  of  a  manly 
bearing  that  was  fully  able  to  support  it  with  due  and 
appropriate  effect.  Jewelry,  even  in  his  youth,  he  never 
favored.  He  thought  it  altogether  superfluous  in  one  of 
his  position  and  acquirements,  and  in  a  gentleman  far  too 
suggestive  of  an  attempt  to  excite  a  baseless  admiration. 

In  the  spring  of  1834  occurred  one  of  those  frequent 
outbreaks  peculiar  to  the  French  nation,  and  mostly  tak- 
ing place  in  Paris.  For  the  moment  the  wildest  excite- 
ment prevailed ;  and  although  soon  quelled,  it  proved  to 
be  a  very  neat  and  characteristic  example  of  an  insurrec- 
tion, which  Dr.  Warren,  from  professional  no  less  than 
other  reasons,  was  very  glad  to  see. 

Paris,  April  15,  1834. 

My  dear  Father,  —  As  had  been  supposed  from  the  state 
of  affairs  at  Lyons  and  consequent  reaction  on  the  republican 
party  at  Paris,  so  the  result  has  proved.  On  Sunday,  the  13th, 
towards  evening  some  barricades  were  thrown  up  in  the  Rue 
St.  Martin,  and  the  righting  commenced.  The  rappel  immedi- 
ately beat  to  arms,  and  the  National  Guards  assembled  from  all 
sides. 


174  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEKEN. 

I  was  down  on  the  Boulevards  at  about  ten  in  the  evening. 
The  whole  population  seemed  turned  out  into  the  streets.  A 
long  line  of  troops  extended  down  the  side  of  the  Boulevards ; 
and  as  we  walked  along  an  immense  heavy  mass  of  the  National 
Guard  debouched  from  one  of  the  side  streets,  marching  solemnly 
along  without  music,  and  seeming  intent  on  the  hard  work  pre- 
pared for  them.  Officers  were  galloping  about  giving  their 
orders  on  all  sides,  and  trains  of  artillery  were  stationed  in  the 
different  squares  with  their  matches  lighted.  The  movement  of 
carriages  was  cut  off  from  one  part  of  the  city  to  another,  and 
every  precaution  taken  to  prevent  assistance  being  carried  to 
the  disturbers.  Near  by,  in  the  Place  St.  Michel,  a  barricade 
was  formed,  but  was  soon  carried  by  the  National  Guards  and 
troops  of  the  line.  In  the  other  quarters  of  the  city  the  troops 
contented  themselves  with  blockading  the  streets  barricaded, 
reserving  the  attack  till  daylight.  At  about  six  on  Monday 
morning  —  yesterday  —  the  barricades  were  attacked  and  car- 
ried at  almost  every  quarter,  and  many  of  the  houses  containing 
combatants  entered  and  all  within  killed. 

I  went  down  to  HQtel  Dieu  in  the  morning,  where  many  of 
the  wounded  were  brought,  and  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing 
some  singular  wounds  produced  by  balls,  etc.  One  poor  fellow 
had  received  the  fire  of  a  whole  battalion,  and  had,  as  he  said, 
been  attrape  by  about  ten  balls.  One  had  passed  through  the 
shoulder  joint,  a  second  had  carried  away  one  or  two  fingers, 
another  passed  through  the  muscles  of  the  abdomen,  etc.  A 
Municipal  had  received  a  ball  in  the  abdomen.  No  traces  of  it 
were  to  be  found.  He  seemed  to  suffer  little,  and  the  other 
symptoms  good.  A  woman  had  received  a  ball  while  in  a  sit- 
ting position,  which,  after  having  raked  the  whole  leg,  passed 
into  the  abdomen  and  out  behind,  carrying  away  a  portion  of 
the  os  ilium.  One  man  had  a  good  part  of  the  deltoid  muscle 
carried  away,  leaving  the  capsular  ligament  exposed. 

Many  of  the  dead  were  disposed  in  the  Morgue,  some  of  them 
horribly  slashed  up. 

It  is  difficult  to  conceive  of  a  day  more  exciting  than  yester- 
day, being  one  of  the  most  delightful  of  the  season  ;  and  from 
the  great  commotion  the  streets  were  filled  with  the  curious, 
and  work  seemed  in  a  great  measure  suspended.  As  I  walked 
down  towards  the  quays,  long  trains  of  artillery  wagons  with 


M.   COUSIN.  175 

ammunition  were  coming  from  the  environs.  Here  and  there  a 
file  of  soldiers  conducted  on  a  barrow  some  of  the  wounded  sent 
to  the  hospital.  The  scene  at  the  Tuileries  was  very  magnifi- 
cent. All  along  the  Rue  Rivoli  and  in  front  of  the  Chateau 
were  ranged  the  splendid  body  of  cuirassiers  in  armor.  Beyond 
them  the  lancers,  with  their  long  lances  and  tricolored  banners 
affixed  to  the  end,  produced  a  very  picturesque  appearance. 
The  Champs  Elysees  were  occupied  by  a  fine  train  of  artillery. 
On  the  other  side  the  quays  and  the  Place  du  Carrousel  were 
filled  by  the  Garde  Nationale  of  Paris  and  the  Ban-lieu.  As 
the  National  Guard  a  cheval  defiled  before  the  troops  of  the 
line  they  saluted  each  other  with  cries  of  "  Vive  la  ligne  !  Vive 
la  Garde  Nationale !  "  The  King  passed  them  in  review,  and 
seemed  to  be  very  enthusiastically  received. 

In  the  morning  at  about  six  the  Duke  of  Orleans  and  the 
Duke  of  Nemours  rode  down  towards  the  barricades  ;  and  as  they 
passed  down  the  Rue  St.  Martin  were  shot  at  from  some  of  the 
windows.  The  guards  immediately  broke  into  the  house  and 
killed  every  one  in  it,  about  forty.  Before  evening  tranquillity 
seemed  to  be  almost  restored,  and  to-day  we  are  entirely  quiet. 

April  28,  1834. 
Among  the  various  celebrities  I  have  not  neglected  M. 
Cousin.  As  he  is  engaged  during  the  day  at  the  Chamber  of 
Peers,  I  was  obliged  to  call  on  him  in  the  morning  before  break- 
fast, between  nine  and  ten.  After  a  short  time  he  entered, 
apparently  just  out  of  bed.  He  is  about  forty  years  of  age, 
good-looking,  with  agreeable  manners  and  conversation.  I 
passed  three  quarters  of  an  hour  with  him.  He  spoke  of  the 
various  peculiar  religious  sects  in  Europe  and  America,  —  the 
Saint-Simonians,  Mennonites,  Shakers,  etc.  He  said  his  work 
on  Education  had  been  translated  in  England,  and  Owen  had 
claimed  some  of  his  ideas  as  his  own,  saying  that  he  had  pro- 
pounded them  at  New  Lanark,  though  he  did  not  believe  it. 
He  showed  me  the  American  edition  of  his  work  on  Philosophy, 
which  had  been  sent  him.  He  has  lately  published  another 
work,  which  I  have  bought.  I  regret  not  to  have  seen  more  of 
M.  Cousin,  as  I  have  seldom  met  with  any  one  whose  conversa- 
tion was  more  instructive.  He  inquired  particularly  for  Mr. 
Everett,  to  whom  he  desired  his  best  respects.  I  must  also 
return  him  mine  for  his  kindness  in  giving  me  the  introduction. 


176  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEEEN. 

Dr.  "Warren's  second  winter  in  Paris  was  essentially 
but  a  repetition  of  the  first,  both  as  to  the  nature  of  his 
occupations,  the  incessant  claims  of  his  professional  pur- 
suits, and  the  rapidity  with  which  the  weeks  and  months 
rolled  on.  Spring  came  upon  him  almost  before  he  was 
aware  of  its  approach,  and  the  day  upon  which  he  had 
decided  to  leave  for  London  found  him  with  not  a  few  of 
his  many  designs  barely  accomplished.  Still  much  had 
been  done,  and  the  rest  must  be  left  to  another  season 
and  more  favorable  opportunities.  Under  date  of  April 
28,  1834,  he  wrote  to  his  father :  — 

"  I  leave  Paris  to-day  in  the  afternoon,  taking  the  diligence 
to  Strasburg,  whence  I  propose  to  go  down  the  Rhine  and 
stop  at  Heidelberg  on  the  way.  I  shall  pass  through  Holland 
and  Belgium,  and  see  some  of  the  medical  men,  if  possible." 

On  the  15th  of  May  he  was  in  Amsterdam,  whence  he 
wrote  at  great  length  to  his  father. 

"  The  Museum  at  Heidelberg  is  chiefly  celebrated  for  its 
preparations  of  the  lymphatics  by  Tiedemann,  one  of  the  pelvis 
the  most  beautiful  I  have  ever  seen.  I  went  there  with  the 
expectation  of  seeing  Blumenbach,  but  was  much  disappointed 
on  learning  that  he  was  at  Gottingen.  I  was  almost  tempted  to 
take  the  diligence  to  that  town  and  pay  him  a  visit,  but  time 
was  so  precious  that  I  was  obliged  to  abandon  it.  By  far  the 
most  magnificent  collection  of  healthy  and  morbid  anatomy  I 
have  ever  seen  was  at  Leyden.  It  was  the  work  of  many  dis- 
tinguished men,  like  Albinus,  Brugmans,  Ruysch,  and  others, 
and  is  most  admirably  arranged  in  a  building  designed  for  the 
purpose.  I  observed  two  skeletons,  one  six  feet  and  a  half  high, 
the  other  that  of  a  woman  who  died  at  the  age  of  one  hundred 
and  ten  years,  with  the  vertebras  forming  the  segment  of  a  cir- 
cle. The  wet  preparations  were  exquisite.  One  of  them  was 
by  Ruysch,  the  only  specimen  left  from  his  collection,  which 
was  sold  to  the  Emperor  of  Russia.  It  represented  a  child's 
face,  so  nicely  injected,  even  to  the  papilla?  of  the  tongue,  as 
to  look  as  fresh  as  the  living  subject. 


MUSEUM   AT   LEYDEN.  177 

"  The  dislocations  were  very  fine,  among  them  what  I  took  to 
be  a  cast,  as  I  could  not  examine  it  in  the  case,  of  a  dislocation 
behind  and  backwards,  which  showed  well  the  formation  of  the 
new  cavity  for  the  head  of  the  bone.  This  must  have  been 
taken  from  an  original  in  the  possession  of  Du  Pui,  who  has,  I 
believe,  a  cabinet  of  his  own.  He  is  now  very  old  and  decrepit, 
and  I  did  not  think  myself  justified  in  calling  on  him  without 
an  introduction.  The  curator  of  the  Museum,  an  old  gentleman 
of  the  ancien  regime,  in  wig,  small-clothes,  and  shoes,  very  kindly 
went  round  with  us  and  explained  the  specimens  through  an 
interpreter,  who  was  a  bright  little  boy,  though  we  found  his 
explanations  somewhat  unsatisfactory,  as  he  did  not  understand 
medical  terms.  In  the  course  of  our  visit  I  told  the  boy  to 
express  our  gratification  to  the  old  gentleman,  and  also  to  inform 
him  that  we  were  Americans.  I  could  not  understand  the 
deference  with  which  we  were  treated  after  he  had  done  this, 
until  I  finally  discovered  that  the  youngster  had  mischievously 
intimated  to  the  custodian  that  I  was  the  son  of  the  Emperor  of 
America,  which  he  evidently  believed. 

"  Altogether  this  collection  would  have  been  well  worth  a  jour- 
ney expressly  from  Paris,  as  it  is  unequalled  in  Europe,  so  far 
as  I  have  seen.  The  Museum  of  Natural  History  at  Leyden 
ranks  with  that  of  the  Garden  of  Plants,  and  is  in  some  respects 
superior." 

On  the  17th  of  May  Dr.  Warren  arrived  in  London, 
after  a  somewhat  stormy  passage  of  thirty-six  hours  by 
steamer  from  Rotterdam.  He  learned  on  the  next  day 
of  the  sad  loss  of  his  friend  Jackson,  and  was  much 
depressed  by  it. 

London,  May  18, 1834. 
I  have  just  received  letters  informing  me  of  the  death  of 
Jackson,  which  has  thrown  quite  a  gloom  over  us  here.  I  had 
written  him  not  long  since,  and  was  in  hopes  that  he  had  quite 
recovered  his  health.  His  loss  will  be  to  Boston  a  real  one,  not 
only  to  his  friends,  but  to  the  medical  profession,  of  which  he 
was  destined  to  be  a  great  reformer.  The  effect  produced  here 
and  in  Paris  has  been  very  great.  One  of  his  friends  just  from 
France  tells  me  that  Louis  on  hearing  the  news  of  his  death  was 
altogether  overcome,  quite  unable  to  contain  himself ;  and  many 

12 


178  JONATHAN    MASON    WARKEN. 

others  of  his  friends  there  were  much  affected  by  it.  Dr.  Boott 
here,  whom  I  have  met,  seems  to  have  suffered  a  great  deal, 
having  been  much  attached  to  Jackson.  I  have  seldom  seen 
such  a  general  feeling  expressed  on  all  sides.  There  was  an 
enthusiasm  about  him  such  that  few  of  those  intimately  ac- 
quainted with  him  could  help  being  much  interested  in  his 
welfare.  I  am  happy  to  find  that  his  father  has  displayed  so 
much  fortitude  on  the  occasion,  —  a  time  at  which  a  man's  real 
character  commonly  displays  itself.1 

May  28,  he  writes  :  — 

"  The  weather  is  delightful,  and  the  city  was  never  more 
crowded  with  strangers,  or  gayer,  than  now.  There  are  not 
only  great  numbers  of  concerts  and  an  immense  display  of 
musical  talent,  but  six  hundred  musicians  are  to  give  a  festival 
in  Westminster  Abbey,  the  first  of  this  kind  for  fifty  years,  and 
it  is  under  the  patronage  of  the  King  and  Royal  Family." 

For  the  next  few  weeks  Dr.  Warren  found  his  time 
fully  employed ;  and  his  only  embarrassment  arose  from 
the  difficulty  he  experienced  in  choosing  among  the 
numberless  invitations,  professional  and  social,  that  were 
offered  on  every  hand  and  from  every  quarter.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Bates  were  extremely  kind.  He  saw  much  of  his 
friend  Mr.  Phillips.  Sir  Astley  Cooper  and  other  prominent 
members  of  the  faculty  were  lavish  of  their  attentions. 

1  With  so  many  memories  that  seemed  to  shine  through  his  sorrow,  like  stars 
piercing  the  gloom  of  night,  Dr.  Warren  must  have  read  with  a  vivid  interest  the 
tribute,  warm  from  a  tender  heart  and  quickened  by  recent  grief,  which  Dr.  Holmes 
paid  to  their  mutual  companion  shortly  after  his  death.  No  apology  will  be  needed 
for  reproducing  it  here,  not  merely  as  a  touching  pendant  to  that  glowing  Parisian 
life,  but  as  a  reminder  of  one  whom  not  even  youth,  talent,  and  an  heroic  nature 
could  rescue  from  an  early  grave. 

"And  thOu,  dear  friend,  whom  Science  still  deplores, 
And  love  still  mourns  on  ocean-severed  shores, 
Though  the  bleak  forest  twice  has  bowed  with  snow 
Since  thou  wast  laid  its  budding  leaves  below, 
Thine  image  mingles  with  my  closing  strain, 
As  when  we  wandered  by  the  turbid  Seine, 
Both  blessed  with  hopes  which  revelled,  bright  and  free, 
On  all  we  longed,  or  all  we  dreamed  to  be ; 
To  thee  the  amaranth  and  the  cypress  fell,  — 
And  I  was  spared  to  breathe  this  last  farewell." 


SIR  ASTLET    COOPEK.  179 

"  Dr.  Boott  desired  me  to  call  on  him  for  anything  in  the  na- 
ture of  letters  of  introduction,  etc.  Mr.  Clift,  the  curator  of 
Hunter's  Museum,  has  promised  me  a  sight  of  it,  though  it  has 
really  been  closed  for  two  years  on  account  of  additions  to  the 
building.  He  has  also  most  kindly  offered  to  take  me  to  a 
meeting  of  the  Royal  Society,  at  which  the  Duke  of  Sussex 
will  preside." 

The  great  yearly  gathering  of  the  Quakers  was  then 
taking  place,  and  Miss  Anna  Braithwaite  asked  Mrs.  Fry 
to  introduce  him  there.  Of  the  great  variety  and  the 
incessant  pressure  of  his  engagements,  the  numerous 
and  lengthy  letters  he  contrived  to  write  afford  ample 
evidence. 

London,  June  5,  1834. 

My  dear  Father,  —  The  day  after  my  arrival  in  London, 
I  called  on  Sir  Astley  Cooper,  who  received  me,  as  usual,  with 
the  greatest  cordiality.  He  is  now,  I  suppose,  about  sixty-five 
years  of  age,  with  a  tall,  commanding  figure  ;  slightly  inclined 
to  corpulency,  though  this  hardly  appears,  as  he  wears  a  frock- 
coat  buttoned  up  to  the  neck.  His  expression  is  peculiarly  invit- 
ing, with  an  air  of  good  humor  which  places  the  stranger  quite  at 
his  ease.  He  becomes  more  serious  as  he  enters  into  conversa- 
tion, when  he  always  introduces  some  subject  of  interest  to  his 
visitor.  On  the  present  occasion  he  inquired  first  for  you,  then 
asked  if  I  had  brought  back  Mrs.  W.,  and  finally  touched  upon 
our  home  politics,  as  to  which  he  seemed  well  informed.  We 
happened  upon  the  subject  of  fractures,  and  he  gave  me  his 
ideas  on  that  of  the  neck  of  the  thigh  bone,  upon  which  he  has 
lately  published  an  article  in  the  "  Medical  Gazette,"  in  answer 
to  some  remarks  of  Dupuytren  in  one  of  his  lectures.  He  said 
he  had  thus  far  taken  no  notice  of  the  misstatements  of  various 
persons  as  to  his  opinions  in  this  matter,  but  now  found  it 
necessary  to  refute  the  assertions  of  so  high  an  authority  as 
Dupuytren.  He  never  denied  that  a  bony  union  of  the  neck  of 
the  thigh  bone  could  take  place,  that  he  has  specimens  which 
prove  it ;  but  that  it  occurred  only  when  the  ligament  which 
covers  the  neck  was  entirely  torn  through,  so  as  to  prevent  all 
nourishment  from  reaching  it.  In  most  cases  a  ligamentous 
union  resulted;  and  he  thought  that  this  should  be  permitted, 


180  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

especially  in  old  persons  where  extension  might  cause  serious 
accident  or  death.  In  young  and  strong  people  extension 
might  be  tried  for  some  time  to  give  them  a  chance,  though 
Nature  seemed  to  have  intended  in  some  of  the  fractures  that 
the  union  should  be  by  ligament,  as  appears  in  fractures  of  the 
patella,  especially  among  animals,  which  are  almost  always 
united  in  this  manner.  "  Tell  your  father,"  said  Sir  Astley, 
"that  our  treatment  of  these  fractures  of  the  patella  is  entirely 
different  from  what  it  was  when  he  was  here.  We  now  use  a 
splint.  The  patient  is  placed  with  the  thigh  flexed,  so  as  to  re- 
lax the  muscles  and  allow  the  ligamentous  union  to  take  place." 
This  subject,  and  some  others,  occupied  all  my  visit. 

I  called  again  on  him  yesterday  to  introduce  a  friend  of  mine 
from  Philadelphia.  He  gave  us  the  characters  of  some  of  the 
leading  men  in  Parliament,  and  made  some  remarks  on  educa- 
tion in  our  country.  Cobbett,  it  seems,  opposed  the  other  even- 
ing the  bill  for  the  education  of  the  lower  classes  now  before 
the  House ;  saying  that  statistics  from  the  New  York  prisons 
showed  that  educated  criminals  were  in  much  greater  propor- 
tion than  uneducated  ones,  and  that  the  same  was  the  case  in 
Ireland,  Scotland,  etc. ;  also  that  the  French  commissioner  to 
our  country  had  drawn  the  same  conclusions.  Cobbett  proposed 
to  put  boys  to  the  plough,  and  let  them  pick  up  what  they  could 
to  a  certain  age.  I  have  the  "  Times,"  and  will  try  to  send  you 
the  debates.  Sir  Astley  gave  me  cards  to  all  the  different  hos- 
pitals, —  to  Bell,  Guthrie,  Brodie,  Travers,  Tyrrel,  Lawrence, 
and  others.  I  attacked  him  about  the  preparation,  which  I  told 
him  I  should  insist  on  having  before  I  left  town.  He  seemed  to 
yield  a  tacit  consent,  and  I  doubt  not  that  I  shall  succeed.  Sir 
Astley  receives  his  consultation  visits  from  ten  to  twelve,  and  his 
antechamber  is  always  full.  I  found  the  only  way  to  see  him 
was  to  make  the  servant  smuggle  me  in  before  my  time  through 
a  side  room,  giving  him  something  for  his  trouble. 

I  have  been  attending  the  Eye  Infirmary,  where  there  are 
over  two  hundred  patients  daily.  I  saw  an  amputation  by 
Morgan,  day  before  yesterday,  and  yesterday  Mr.  Clift  spent 
five  hours  in  showing  us  the  whole  Hunterian  Museum.  He 
was  one  of  Hunter's  students,  and  helped  him  put  up  most  of 
his  preparations,  being  thus  one  of  the  best  persons  to  explain 
the  object  to  be  illustrated  by  each.     The  Museum  has  been 


MR.    GREEN.  181 

closed  for  some  years  with  the  object  of  making  changes  and 
-additions  to  the  building,  so  that  we  were  very  fortunate  in 
haying  a  letter  to  the  curator,  else  we  could  not  have  seen  it. 
The  rabbits'  ears,  transplanted  teeth,  etc.,  mentioned  in  Hunter's 
work  on  Inflammation,  were  very  interesting. 

June  6. 

I  was  prevented  from  going  last  evening  to  the  meeting  of  the 
Royal  Society  by  an  engagement  to  dine  at  Mr.  Grant's,  which 
I  had  forgotten.  However,  two  of  my  friends  went,  and  met 
there  Mr.  Stanley  of  St.  Bartholomew's  Hospital,  and  Mr.  Green 
of  St.  Thomas's,  one  of  the  most  celebrated  surgeons  here.  They 
were  both  very  polite,  and  asked  them  to  attend  their  visits. 
This  morning  we  went  to  St.  Thomas's,  and  I  delivered  to  Mr. 
Green  my  letter  from  Sir  Astley.  He  is  a  tall,  good-natured 
man,  resembling  Dr.  Reynolds,  and  of  very  polite  address.  He 
took  us  round  with  him,  explaining  the  customs,  etc.,  of  the 
hospital,  and  showing  the  most  interesting  cases.  Among  these 
were  a  couple  of  new  noses,  which  resembled  pieces  of  batter- 
pudding  stuck  on  the  faces,  though  the  operations  had  been 
well  done,  and  the  new  features  will  be  much  improved,  doubt- 
less, when  the  blood  begins  to  circulate  in  them.  After  we  had 
seen  all  the  cases  and  asked  various  questions,  he  took  us  to  the 
other  buildings  connected  with  the  hospital,  including  the  Mu- 
seum, which  is  very  fine.  Here  we  saw  the  aorta  tied  by  Sir 
Astley ;  diseases  of  the  bone  mentioned  in  his  works ;  the  prep- 
aration of  the  first  case  of  carotid  aneurism,  the  patient  dying 
afterwards  of  apoplexy,  showing  no  want  of  blood  in  the  brain ; 
and  various  others  of  interest.  Mr.  Green  was  exceedingly 
polite,  and  offered  to  introduce  us  to  Elliotson  and  the  other 
surgeons  of  St.  Thomas,  and  desired  us  to  come  and  see  his 
practice  to-morrow.  To-morrow  I  shall  go  to  St.  Bartholomew's. 
I  intend  going  shortly  to  Kingston  on  a  visit  to  Dr.  Roots. 
Through  a  recommendation  from  Mr.  Clift,  I  have  got  a  dozen 
and  a  half  very  nice  small  preparation  bottles,  and  he  also  showed 
me  his  method  of  putting  them  up.  The  weather  is  very  pleas- 
ant, and  my  continual  engagements  make  the  time  pass  very 
rapidly.     To-day  I  intend  visiting  the  House  of  Commons. 

With  best  love  to  Mamma,  believe  me 

Your  affectionate  son, 

J.  M.  Warren. 


182  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

London,  June  20,  1834. 

My  dear  Father,  —  In  my  last  letter  I  gave  some  account 
of  Sir  Astley's  ideas  on  the  fracture  of  the  neck  of  the  thigh 
bone,  in  which  you  will  perceive  that  his  opinion  has  been 
somewhat  modified  since  you  were  here.  He  seems  to  avoid 
the  question  a  little  by  saying  that  when  he  gave  his  opinion  he 
had  never  seen  a  case,  though  he  did  not  deny  its  possibility. 
Of  this  you  can  judge  best  yourself.  I  mentioned  going  round 
with  Mr.  Green,  who  was  very  polite,  and  gave  me  free  admis- 
sion to  the  Museum  of  St.  Thomas,  which,  though  not  so  large 
as  that  of  Guy's,  contains  many  very  beautiful  and  valuable 
preparations.  I  saw  Dr.  Hodgkin  the  next  clay,  and  he  gave 
me  a  ticket  to  Guy's  Museum  during  my  stay  in  London.  I 
should  have  stated  that  among  the  novelties  at  St.  Thomas's 
was  their  treatment  of  hydrocele  by  seton,  which  I  saw  done  by 
Mr.  Green  at  the  bedside.  The  scrotum  being  punctured,  and 
the  contents  evacuated,  a  long  needle  with  seton  was  introduced 
through  the  tunica  vaginalis,  thrust  out  at  the  upper  part  of  the 
scrotum,  and  the  seton  tied. 

The  day  after  our  visit  to  St.  Thomas's  we  went  to  St.  Bar- 
tholomew's, where  I  delivered  my  card  to  Mr.  Stanley,  lecturer 
on  anatomy  and  internal  pathology,  who  introduced  me  to  Mr. 
Earle,  Mr.  Lawrence,  and  Mr.  Vincent.  Mr.  Lawrence  has  a 
gentlemanly  air,  a  fine,  bright  eye,  and  decidedly  intellectual 
features.  I  attended  him  on  his  rounds,  and  he  very  politely 
pointed  out  the  interesting  cases,  among  them  a  fracture  of  the 
neck  of  the  thigh  bone,  which  he  ordered  to  be  placed  on  the 
double  inclined  plane  of  Goodwin,  now  generally  employed 
for  this  accident.  There  was  also  a  fracture  of  the  patella, 
which  was  treated,  as  I  mentioned  in  my  last  letter,  by  placing 
the  leg  on  a  plane  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees  with  the 
body.  After  visiting  the  other  wards,  we  came  to  the  syphilitic 
patients,  who  have  one  to  themselves.  Their  treatment  does 
not  differ  from  ours," — mercury  in  the  primary  disease,  and  sar- 
saparilla  for  worn-out  constitutions. 

Mr.  Lawrence  gave  us  an  invitation  to  attend  his  operations 
on  the  following  Saturday,  and  Mr.  Stanley  gave  us  admission 
to  the  Museum,  which  is  a  very  nice  one.  At  Guy's  I  have  not 
accompanied  the  surgeons  of  late,  but  have  attended  their  op- 
erations every  Tuesday.  Key  operated  last  week  for  popliteal 
aneurism,  and  this  week  I  saw  Callaway  amputate  the  breast, 


HOSPITALS.  183 

and  Bransby  Cooper  cut  out  from  the  leg  a  ball  which  had  been 
for  a  long  time  imbedded  between  the  bone  and  the  tendo 
Achillis. 

One  of  the  finest  hospitals  in  London  is  St.  George's,  at  Hyde 
Park  Corner,  which  latterly  has  been  altered  and  almost  entirely 
rebuilt.  The  rooms  throughout  are  admirably  arranged,  and 
furnished  with  small,  low  iron  bedsteads,  over  each  of  which 
an  iron  bar  supports  curtains  when  required ;  and  also  a  rope 
with  a  handle,  for  the  patient  to  use  when  too  weak  to  raise 
himself  or  turn  in  bed.  The  wards  are  ventilated  after  a  new 
plan,  not  easily  described  in  a  letter.  The  surgeons  are  Mr. 
Brodie,  Mr.  Babington,  and  Mr.  Hawkins.  I  had  a  card  to 
Mr.  Brodie,  and  he  gave  orders  to  one  of  the  house  surgeons  to 
show  us  about.  The  water-beds,  of  which  you  have  heard, 
have  fallen  into  disuse,  from  getting  damp.  They  were  of  oil- 
cloth, filled  with  water,  and  used  for  very  debilitated  persons, 
to  prevent  gangrene  from  long  lying  on  one  side. 

I  saw  Mr.  Green  at  St.  Thomas's  operate  in  rather  an  odd 
case,  a  few  days  since,  of  an  apparently  well-defined  tumor  just 
below  the  groin.  On  cutting  down,  however,  no  tumor  was  to 
be  found ;  and  after  a  long  examination  the  swelling  proved  to 
have  arisen  from  a  large  accumulation  of  lymph  between  the 
muscles,  which  had  been  compressed  into  adhesion  by  a  blow. 

Since  I  have  been  here  I  have  given  by  far  the  most  of  my 
attention  to  diseases  of  the  eye,  and,  through  the  kindness  of 
those  at  the  head  of  the  various  institutions,  I  have  been  able 
to  see  a  great  number  of  operations  by  the  most  eminent  men, 
thus  gaining  much  valuable  information.  The  largest  of  these 
institutions  is  the  Ophthalmic  Infirmary,  Moorfields.  The  sur- 
geons are  Scott  and  Tyrrel,  to  the  former  of  whom  I  had  a 
letter  from  Dr.  Peirson  and  a  card  from  Sir  Astley.  He  invited 
me  to  attend  him  at  the  Infirmary,  and  also  at  the  London  Hos- 
pital, of  which  he  is  surgeon.  I  have,  however,  mostly  followed 
Mr.  Macmurdo,  assistant  at  the  Ophthalmic,  who  has  been 
extremely  polite,  desiring  us  to  ask  any  questions  about  the 
patients.  Of  this  we  have  freely  availed  ourselves,  and,  I  sus- 
pect, have  much  lengthened  his  visits.  Among  the  numerous 
changes  of  late  years  has  been  the  treatment  of  diseases  of  the 
lachrymal  passages.  The  tumor  of  the  sack,  which  was  so  often 
operated  on,  is  not  now  in  one  case  out  of  ten.     The  antiphlo- 


184  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

gistic  treatment  is  ordered,  —  leeches  to  the  eye,  one  or  two  at 
a  time,  continued  for  two,  three,  or  even  six  months.  I  think  I 
have  stated  in  one  of  my  letters  Lisfranc's  practice  in  this  dis- 
ease, much  the  same  as  the  application  of  steam  from  water  to 
the  nostrils  by  a  machine  for  the  purpose.  I  have  never  before 
seen  such  good  examples  of  the  use  of  belladonna  as  a  pallia- 
tive in  cataract,  and  in  inflammation  of  the  iris  to  dilate  the 
pupil  and  prevent  adhesion. 

For  cataract,  the  method  now  most  frequent  here  is  that  of 
extraction,  the  upper  half  of  the  cornea  being  divided,  not  only 
because  the  cicatrix  at  this  point  is  less  perceived,  but  also  to 
avoid  the  escape  of  the  vitreous  humor,  which  does  not  so  often 
occur  by  this  treatment.  The  patient  is  placed  on  a  bed  made 
for  the  purpose  in  front  of  a  window,  with  his  head  supported 
on  a  hard  pillow,  and  is  thus  more  steady.  It  has  been  observed 
that  since  this  plan  was  adopted,  the  escape  of  the  vitreous 
humor  happens  much  more  rarely.  The  operator  sits  behind 
the  patient,  having  thus  the  full  light  on  the  eye,  and  also  the 
advantage  of  being  able  to  support  the  upper  lid,  and  fix  the 
organ  himself. 

Mr.  Tyrrel  operated  very  beautifully  last  Friday  for  extrac- 
tion and  for  artificial  pupil,  and  to-day  I  saw  Scott  perform  two 
similar  operations.  The  lens  extracted  in  this  case  was  very 
dark,  with  some  blackish  spots,  and  was  the  only  one  that  I 
have  ever  seen  at  all  approaching  what  has  been  called  "  black 
cataract." 

The  other  hospital  for  diseases  of  the  eye  is  that  at  West- 
minster, of  which  Guthrie  is  surgeon.  I  had  a  card  to  him  from 
Sir  Astley,  and  was  received  with  the  greatest  kindness.  He 
introduced  me  to  the  house  surgeons,  and  has  requested  me  to 
attend  his  practice  during  my  stay  in  the  city.  I  have  already 
seen  him  operate  twice,  and  very  expertly.  The  patient  is 
placed  on  a  chair  made  for  the  purpose,  the  head  laid  back,  and 
the  operator  behind.-  The  operation  is  much  the  same  as  that 
described  above,  with  this  peculiarity  that  after  the  surgeon  has 
passed  his  knife  quite  through  the  cornea,  and  just  as  he  is 
about  to  complete  the  section,  he  suddenly  withdraws  it,  leaving 
the  cornea  above  attached  by  a  slight  pedicel.  By  this  means, 
Guthrie  says,  in  those  large,  full,  bulging  eyes,  he  prevents  a 
too  sudden  escape  of  the  humors.     The  section  is  completed  by 


MR.    GUTHRIE.  185 

a  small  bistoury,  the  capsule  opened  with  a  hooked  needle 
instead  of  the  cystitome  of  Roux,  which,  however,  I  prefer  in 
appearance,  and  then,  by  slight  pressure  on  the  lower  lid,  the 
lens  is  slipped  out.  In  one  case  in  which,  after  the  knife  — 
that  of  Richter — had  been  introduced,  the  patient,  by  twisting 
round  the  eye,  contrived  to  slip  it  off  before  the  section  was 
completed.  Guthrie  used  a  knife  invented,  or  at  least  modified 
by  himself,  to  effect  his  object.  This  has  two  blades,  one  slip- 
ping on  the  other.  The  under  one  is  blunt,  and  of  silver ;  the 
upper  that  of  Richter,  and  sharp.  In  this  case,  as  the  aqueous 
humor  had  escaped,  and  the  iris  protruded  and  was  in  contact 
with  the  cornea,  there  would  have  been  danger  of  wounding  it 
if  a  cutting  instrument  had  been  introduced.  The  object  of 
this  one  was  to  pass  it  in  and  across  the  iris  concealed,  when, 
on  reaching  the  opposite  side,  the  blade  was  thrust  out,  and 
compelled  the  division.  The  knife  of  Jager,  which  you  have 
doubtless  seen,  and  of  which  this  is  but  a  modification,  has  two 
cutting  blades,  and  is  used  to  prevent  a  double  motion  of  the 
hand. 

In  Guthrie's  practice  there  is  nothing  else  that  I  see  peculiar 
except  in  those  cases  of  ophthalmia  attended  with  a  dilated, 
full,  spongy  state  of  the  vessels  of  the  conjunctive  tunic.  He 
introduced  an  ointment  composed  of  ten  grains  of  nit.  argent, 
to  the  drachm  of  lard,  which  is  done  with  a  brush. 

As  my  letter  has  already  reached  an  uncommon  length,  I  must 
defer  to  another  time  the  museums,  which  are  very  interesting. 

I  dined  last  Tuesday  with  Sir  Astley  and  Lady  Cooper,  —  a 
very  handsome  party.  Sir  Astley  introduced  me  as  the  grand- 
nephew  of  General  Warren,  leader  at  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill, 
which,  by  the  way,  I  did  not  think  they  relished  much.  The 
party  was  very  pleasant,  consisting,  with  others,  of  Mr.  Cooper, 
a  brother  of  Sir  Astley,  and  member  of  Parliament, — a  fine- 
looking  old  man;  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brodie ;  Colonel  Cooper,  a 
nephew  of  Sir  Astley's ;  and  some  others,  whose  names  I  did 
not  hear.  The  dinner  was  very  magnificent ;  and  among  the 
dishes  was  a  fine  haunch  of  venison,  not,  however,  equalling  the 
American.  In  the  centre  of  the  table  were  a  superb  gold  plateau 
and  the  vases  presented  to  Sir  Astley  by  George  IV. 

I  was  very  glad  to  see  Sir  Astley  in  this  light,  and  hear  his 
conversation,  disburdened  of  medical  affairs.     He  seems  to  well 


186  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

understand  good  living,  and,  from  Ms  specimens,  must  be  an 
excellent  connoisseur  of  wines.  After  the  ladies  had  retired, 
the  conversation  took  a  different  turn,  in  which  Mr.  Brodie 
joined,  and  seemed  to  be  a  very  sensible  man.  He  has  at  pres- 
ent. I  hear,  the  best  practice  of  any  surgeon  in  London. 

Sir  Astley  has  in  his  drawing-room  a  full-length  portrait  of 
himself  by  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  for  which  he  said  he  sat  six 
years.  He  has  lately  been  at  Oxford,  at  the  installation  of  the 
Duke  of  Wellington,  and  made  LL.D.  there. 

The  medical  men  whom  I  have  seen  here  are  Bright  and 
Elliotson,  to  both  of  whom  I  had  letters  of  introduction.  They 
were  very  polite,  and  Dr.  Bright  showed  us  the  lunatic  asylum 
connected  with  Guy"s,  one  of  the  neatest  and  best  regulated  I 
have  seen  abroad.  I  say  nothing  of  the  English  practice  and 
mode  of  examination,  which  stands  but  a  poor  chance  in  com- 
parison with  that  rigid  scrutiny  adopted  to  get  at  the  truth  in 
France  ;  and  the  treatment  is.  after  all,  half  of  it  quackery  in 
England,  though  I  think  the  French,  when  it  is  called  for,  are 
quite  active  enough  in  their  treatment,  notwithstanding  the 
assertions  of  English  writers. 

At  St.  Bartholomew's  this  morning  a  distinguished  surgeon 
of  that  institution  favored  me  with  the  sight  of  a  most  perfect 
wet  preparation  of  dislocation  of  the  neck  of  the  thigh  bone, 
backwards  and  downwards.  The  case  had  occurred  in  his  own 
practice,  and  he  has  politely  offered  to  give  it  to  me.  I  will 
mention  the  particulars  in  my  next.  Nothing  has  pleased  me 
so  much  for  a  long  time. 

Lo>-Doy,  July  9..  18:34. 

My  deae  Father,  —  In  my  last  letter  I  mentioned  that  I  had 
discovered  in  the  Museum  of  St.  Bartholomew's  Hospital  a  very 
interesting  specimen  of  dislocation  of  the  hip  backwards  and 
downwards.  While  Mr.  Stanley  was  explaining  to  us  the  most 
peculiar  of  the  pathological  preparations  he  stopped  at  one  and 
said,  '-Here  is  a  specimen  that  will  be  very  interesting  to  you 
Americans,"  and  went  on  to  remark  that  some  time  ago  he  saw 
in  one  of  our  papers  a  report  of  a  trial  in  which  it  was  asserted, 
in  opposition  to  the  testimony  of  a  surgical  witness,  that  a 
case  in  which  he  had  been  consulted  could  not  have  been  a  dislo- 
cation backwards  and  downwards  because  Sir  Astley  Cooper  in 


ME.    STANLEY.  187 

all  his  practice  had  never  met  with  such  an  instance.  This 
specimen,  he  said,  proves  that  however  large  a  surgeon's  expe- 
rience may  be,  some  things  may  escape  him.  He  then  showed 
us  a  beautiful  and  most  satisfactory  wet  preparation  of  a  dis- 
location backwards  and  downwards  which  occurred  under  his 
own  eyes.  This  is  most  valuable,  as  the  patient  died  immedi- 
ately after  the  accident  and  no  attempts  were  made  to  reduce 
the  fracture,  and  you  have  it  with  all  the  soft  parts  still  there. 
I  told  Mr.  Stanley  that  my  father  was  the  surgeon  whose  views 
were  attacked,  and  I  was  most  happy  to  have  seen  the  prepara- 
tion, which  I  had  looked  for  in  all  the  museums  of  Europe. 
The  one  at  Leyden,  though  satisfactory,  is  not  equal  to  this,  as 
no  history  is  attached.  Mr.  Stanley  very  politely  offered  to  give 
me  the  particulars,  so  far  as  they  had  been  preserved,  if  I  would 
call  at  his  house.  This  I  did  yesterday,  and  I  enclose  you  the 
case  as  extracted  from  his  book.  He  has  been  exceedingly  kind 
to  us,  introduced  us  to  all  the  surgeons  of  St.  Bartholomew's, 
and  given  us  free  admission  to  his  museum.  He  was  a  coadju- 
tor of  Abernethy  at  St.  Bartholomew's,  and  is  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  anatomists  of  London. 

I  had  intended  to  leave  town  on  Friday,  but  Mr.  Stanley 
asked  me  to  defer  my  departure,  if  possible,  one  day,  and  with 
my  friends  finish  my  visit  here  with  a  dinner  of  English  mutton 
and  a  talk  on  anatomy.  This  was  the  more  polite  as  being 
quite  uncalled  for ;  and  I  told  him  that  on  leaving  London,  what- 
ever we  might  have  to  complain  of,  it  would  not  be  a  want  of 
hospitality,  —  in  fact,  we  have  received  the  utmost  attention  on 
all  sides. 

This  morning  Dr.  Hodgkin  gave  me  an  introduction  to  Lang- 
staff,  who  has  one  of  the  best  museums  in  London,  ranking  next 
to  that  of  Guy's,  and  particularly  rich  in  specimens  of  diseases 
of  the  urinary  organs.  At  Guy's  yesterday  I  saw  Key  operate 
for  a  fungoid  tumor  of  the  antrum,  —  a  most  disagreeable  opera- 
tion. He  used  for  cutting  the  bone  the  forceps  of  Liston,  which 
I  was  glad  to  see  tested,  as  I  have  just  bought  a  pair.  The  pair 
I  sent  you  are  similar,  though  on  a  larger  scale.  Mr.  Key  after- 
wards took  off  a  leg  by  a  flap  operation  peculiar  to  himself. 
He  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  operators  for  the  stone  in  Eu- 
rope. I  saw  him  operate  the  other  day  on  a  boy  of  eight  years 
in  half  a  minute.     The  rapidity  with  which  he  performed  each 


188  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

step  of  the  operation  was  quite  magical,  and  all  with  no  apparent 
hurry.  Dupuytren,  on  seeing  him  operate,  said  that  he  had  wit- 
nessed many  operations  and  had  done  many  himself  for  the 
stone,  but  had  never  observed  one  to  equal  that  of  Key. 

In  my  letter  to  Mary  I  mentioned  having  been  at  a  large  pub- 
lic dinner  given  for  the  funds  of  the  Eye  Institution.  Travers 
and  Tyrrel  were  present  with  others,  and  both  spoke,  as  also 
did  Farre,  coadjutor  with  Saunders  in  founding  the  institution. 
The  meeting  was  very  pleasant,  and  a  good  example  of  a  Lon- 
don dinner. 

I  had  sent  in  to  me  yesterday  a  very  neat  case  of  newly  in- 
vented forceps  for  extracting  the  stumps  of  teeth,  which  I  have 
had  made  for  Dr.  Flagg.  The  inventor  called  on  me  yesterday 
and  left  his  card.  I  believe  he  wishes  to  try  them  on  me,  that 
I  may  report  their  success  in  America.  As  I  did  not  care  to 
have  this  experiment  made,  I  have  not  yet  returned  his  visit. 

I  shall  leave  town  on  Saturday,  the  12th,  for  Portsmouth  or 
Salisbury,  go  through  Bath  and  Bristol  and  Shrewsbury  to 
Holyhead,  from  there  taking  the  steamboat  for  Dublin.  Dr. 
Hodgkin  says  there  is  to  be  a  famous  assemblage  of  the  most 
celebrated  literary  men  of  Great  Britain  at  Edinburgh  on  the 
first  of  September.  If  I  remain  in  this  country,  as  now  appears 
probable,  I  shall  try  to  be  present. 

By  a  vessel  going  to  Boston  on  the  20th  I  send  you  a  box 
containing  preparation  glasses,  one  of  casts  whose  history  I 
have,  and  a  third  of  gazettes  and  papers ;  also  some  of  Atkin- 
son's almond  soap  and  paste  ;  also  the  work  of  Bennati  on  the 
Voice,  the  only  one  I  know  of.  I  have  made  every  attempt  to 
get  Bell's  paper,  but  my  bookseller  has  not  yet  succeeded. 
Your  affectionate  son, 

J.  M.  Warren. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

FUTURE  PLAN'S.  —  JOURNEY  TO  DUBLIN".  —  EDINBURGH  AND 

THE    BRITISH    ASSOCIATION. RETURN    TO    LONDON   AND 

PARIS. — 'LETTERS    FROM   PARIS. RETURN   TO   AMERICA. 

When  Dr.  "Warren  left  Boston  for  Europe  it  had  been 
his  father's  intention  and  his  own  desire  that  his  absence 
should  last  but  two  years,  a  period  which  was  then  re- 
garded as  sufficient  to  enable  the  young  physician  to 
gain  such  professional  improvement  as  could  not  be 
secured  at  home.  This  limit  had  been  already  reached 
and  exceeded ;  and  though  Dr.  Warren  had  clearly  per- 
ceived the  advantages  that  would  accrue  from  another 
winter  abroad  and  had  suggested  them  to  his  father,  he 
had  now  given  up  any  prospects  of  this  nature  and  had 
decided  to  sail  for  home  in  the  ensuing  autumn.  On  the 
5th  of  July  he  informed  his  father  of  his  intention  to  sail 
on  the  1st  of  October,  "  though  I  shall  probably  go  to 
Paris  in  the  middle  of  September  for  final  preparations 
and  purchases."  A  few  days  after  his  letter  of  the  5th  of. 
July,  however,  he  received  intelligence  from  his  father 
which  resulted  in  a  complete  change  of  his  plans  and 
a  resolution  to  prolong  his  stay  in  Europe  till  the  coming 
spring.  In  a  letter  from  "Oxford,  July  12,  1834/'  he 
writes :  — 

My  dear  Father,  —  Just  after  having  sent  off  my  letter 
3resterday  to  Boston,  I  received  your  letter  dated  June  8,  on  the 
subject  of  remaining  abroad  another  year,  and  hardly  know  what 
to  answer.  I  have  omitted  writing,  hoping  that  a  little  re- 
flection during  my  ride  down  to  this  city  might  arrange  my 
thoughts,  but  do  not  find  myself  at  all  helped  out  of  my  difficul- 


190  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

ties.  "When  I  look  back  on  the  long  period  of  two  years  and 
think  how  favored  I  have  been  in  having  no  great  calamity 
occur  in  my  own  immediate  family,  it  seems  almost  a  tempting 
of  Providence  still  to  prolong  my  stay  abroad.  To  break  up 
also  the  hopes  of  seeing  my  family  and  of  possibly  being  of  some 
use  to  yourself  just  as  they  seemed  about  to  be  realized,  must 
require  a  most  cool  and  stoical  consideration  of  the  advantages 
offered  by  such  a  course.  No  doubt  remains  in  my  own  mind 
that  those  must  be  great  to  a  person  who,  like  myself,  has  been 
necessarily  obliged  to  divide  his  attention  equally  between  the 
study  of  medicine  and  of  surgery.  Many  of  the  collateral 
branches  must  be  neglected.  The  object  of  another  winter  in 
Paris  would  be  an  attention  to  chemistry,  surgical  diseases, 
syphilitic  diseases,  and  the  eye,  in  which  I  have  got  a  pretty  good 
start  here,  the  clinique  of  Louis,  also  the  lectures  of  the  Sorbonne, 
particularly  those  of  Moral  Philosophy,  which  I  have  much  de- 
sired to  follow  and  study. 

During  my  residence  abroad  I  have  always  given  some  time 
every  day  in  the  winter  to  a  study  of  languages,  —  French  and 
Italian.  In  a  third  winter  I  should  promise  myself  the  acqui- 
sition of  the  German  language.  The  objection  of  a  change  in 
habits  and  feelings  to  a  long  stay  abroad,  though  without  doubt 
true  in  respect  to  some  persons,  yet  I  cannot  allow  it  in  re- 
gard to  mj^self.  I  find  my  attraction  to  home  and  my  own 
country  only  strengthened  by  time,  and  the  sacrifice  which  I 
shall  make  if  I  should  determine  on  this  course  can  be  known 
only  to  myself.  I  could  wish  much  for  the  advice  of  some  one 
to  help  me  out  of  my  difficulties,  and  must  wait  a  time  before  I 
can  determine.  Whatever  I  do,  however,  I  cannot  fail  to  appre- 
ciate most  highly  the  kind  and  affectionate  consideration  for  my 
interests  in  which  this  consent  has  been  given.  I  trust  that  if  I 
avail  myself  of  it,  it  may  not  be  without  its  consequences. 

To  this  his  father  returned  the  following  answer :  — 

Boston,  Aug.  22, 1834. 

My  dear  Mason,  —  Yours  of  the  12th  of  July,  in  which  you 
state  the  embarrassments  you  experienced  as  to  remaining  over 
winter,  I  received,  and  you  request  me  to  write  you  again  on  the 
subject.  The  letters  I  have  already  written  contain  all  that  I 
can  say.     On  the  one  part,  it  is  most  desirable  for  yourself  and 


PATERNAL   COUNSELS.  191 

me  that  you  should  be  at  home ;  on  the  other,  that  your  edu- 
cation should  be  so  complete  that  you  will  want  nothing  but 
practice.  You  will  be  expected  to  come  home  with  a  perfect 
knowledge  of  the  manual  of  surgical  operations  in  the  most  im- 
proved form.  You  will  be  expected  to  be  fully  acquainted  with 
auscultation  and  percussion,  which  are  the  fashion  of  the  day, 
and  to  be  well  acquainted  with  the  prevalent  medical  doctrines. 
A  deficiency  in  these  points  would  not  fail  to  be  noticed.  For 
the  rest,  besides  possessing  a  reasonable  knowledge  of  the  heal- 
ing art,  you  ought  to  bring  home,  if  possible,  something  new  and 
striking,  at  the  same  time  guarding  your  acquirements  with  the 
respect  for  others  without  which  a  medical  man  cannot  be  liked 
by  his  profession. 

Your  health  is  a  primary  object  to  me.  It  is  more  important 
you  should  be  well  than  be  learned.  Bear  this  in  mind.  Do 
not  fritter  away  your  health  by  too  much  labor,  still  less  by  too 
good  living.  Twice  you  have  barely  escaped  with  life.  Be 
careful  of  your  living.  Let  your  food  be  regular  and  sparing. 
Pay  attention  to  the  state  of  the  bowels.  Use  sufficient  exer- 
cise. Above  all,  turn  your  daily  thoughts  in  thankfulness  to  the 
Giver  of  so  many  blessings,  the  Redeemer  on  whom  alone  you 
can  rely  for  the  atonement  of  all  transgressions.  Having  viewed 
your  position  with  the  lights  I  have  thus  presented,  adopt  the 
best  course  you  can  ;  I  shall  be  satisfied.  Should  you  remain 
over  winter,  you  will  calculate  so  as  to  be  here  by  the  end  of 
May,  or  sooner,  if  it  will  answer. 

Your  affectionate  father, 

J.  C.  Warren. 

Feeling  well  assured  of  his  father's  approval  of  his 
plans,  Dr.  Warren  left  London  for  Dublin  and  Edinburgh, 
as  he  had  designed,  from  whence  he  wrote  home  letters  of 
the  usual  length  and  interest. 

Dublin,  July  28,  1834. 

My  dear  Father,  —  The  day  after  my  arrival  here  I  called 
on  your  friend  Dr.  Breen,  who  received  me  very  politely.  He 
is  a  good-looking  man  of  middle  age,  quite  gray  and  rather  near- 
sighted. He  inquired  particularly  for  you  and  your  pursuits.  We 
had  a  long  conversation  about  Edinburgh  and  the  schools  there  at 


192  JONATHAN  MASON  WARREN. 

the  time  of  your  studies.  He  remembered  Dr.  Simmons  well ;  also 
Collins,  who  he  said  was  still  alive  and  in  Wales.  Another  — 
Ives,  of  Norwich,  I  think  —  died  many  years  ago.  He  mentioned 
your  opinion  at  that  time  of  Sir  Astley  Cooper,  who  was  hardly 
expected  to  become  the  man  he  has.  Dr.  Breen  is  a  thoroughly 
good-hearted  Irishman  and  does  nothing  by  halves.  He  asked 
me  to  dine  with  him  the  next  day. 

The  following  clay,  at  his  request,  I  called  on  him  about  eleven, 
and  he  took  me  round  in  his  carriage  and  introduced  me  to 
a  number  of  medical  men ;  he  also  carried  me  to  the  Medical 
Reading  Room,  to  which  I  am  to  have  free  admission  during  my 
sta}r  here.  I  afterwards  rode  out  of  town  with  him,  and  he 
talked  of  the  politics  of  the  day,  both  at  home  and  in  America, 
with  whose  history  he  seems  well  acquainted.  He  said  the  last 
time  he  heard  from  you  was  through  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sears,  who 
were  here  in  1812  with  their  first  child.  He  appears  to  have 
been  much  pleased  with  Mrs.  Sears.  He  observed  that  he  had 
expected  to  see  many  more  of  your  writings,  having  in  fact 
met  with  nothing  but  your  paper  on  organic  diseases  of  the 
heart,  which  was  much  prized  here  as  well  as  in  Edinburgh, 
where,  by  the  way,  I  sent  a  copy  to  a  gentleman  who  requested 
it  about  a  year  ago.  I  told  him  you  had  written  occasionally  on 
different  subjects,  but  that  the  great  pressure  of  business,  both 
in  and  out  of  the  profession,  had  prevented  you  from  under- 
taking any  very  extensive  work. 

At  Dr.  Breen's  we  had  a  very  pleasant  party ;  with  others, 
Dr.  Kennedy,  head  physician  and  Master,  so  called  here,  of 
the  Lying-in  Hospital,  who  sat  next  me  at  table ;  very  intelli- 
gent and  agreeable.  He  was  polite  enough  to  ask  me  to  break- 
fast the  following  day  and  see  his  hospital.  Dr.  Montgomery,  a 
celebrated  accoucheur,  was  also  present ;  and  I  am  to  breakfast 
with  him  on  Wednesda}^  and  see  his  museum,  which  is  the  best 
of  the  kind  —  being  all  preparations  in  midwifery  —  in  Great 
Britain.  I  have  als.o  an  engagement  to  call  on  Mr.  Treat, 
surgeon  of  the  Cork-Street  Fever  Hospital,  and  visit  his  estab- 
lishment to-day.  Dr.  Breen's  wife  is  still  living,  and  he  has  six 
or  seven  children.  His  eldest  daughter,  a  fine  girl,  and  his  son, 
who  is  studying  law,  were  at  table. 

After  dinner  it  is  the  invariable  custom  here  to  bring  on  hot 
water  and  whiskey,  when  each  of  the  company  is  called  upon 


DUBLIN.  193 

for  a  song ;  and  on  this  occasion  some  of  the  guests  sang  with 
great  effect. 

Yesterday  I  breakfasted  with  Dr.  Kennedy  and  visited  his 
hospital,  and  afterwards  passed  two  hours  with  Dr.  Macartney, 
a  most  singular  man,  and  went  over  his  museum. 

Dublin,  Aug.  2, 1834. 

My  dear  Father,  —  Since  I  last  wrote  I  have  visited  most 
of  the  public  institutions  here,  and  have  been  much  gratified  by 
the  way  in  which  they  are  conducted  and  by  the  obliging 
attentions  of  those  in  charge  of  them.  The  day  after  my  dinner 
at  Dr.  Breen's  I  breakfasted  with  Dr.  Kennedy,  Master  of  the 
Lying-in  Hospital,  and  afterwards  went  through  the  wards  with 
him.  The  building  can  contain  about  two  hundred  patients, 
and  is  one  of  the  best-conducted  institutions  I  have  seen  in  Eu- 
rope. The  patients  are  admitted  by  an  order  from  one  of  the 
overseers,  showing  that  they  are  not  able  to  pay  for  assistance 
out  of  the  hospital.  Each  is  kept  three  or  four  days  after  con- 
finement, and  then,  if  in  the  right  state,  discharged  with  proper 
directions.  I  observed  nothing  peculiarly  interesting  in  the 
treatment.  Many  of  the  children  are  affected  with  purulent 
ophthalmia  just  after  birth,  which  is  treated  with  a  caustic  solu- 
tion, sometimes  as  strong  as  ten  grains  of  nit.  arg.  to  the 
ounce  of  water.  The  wards  are  cut  up  as  small  as  possible, 
and  generally  well  ventilated.  The  beds  are  well  aired  as  soon 
as  the  patients  leave  them,  and  the  floors  sprinkled  with  chloride 
of  lime.  One  of  the  most  interesting  facts  I  noticed  here  was 
the  use  of  the  stethoscope. 

Having  received  an  invitation  from  Dr.  Montgomery  to  break- 
fast with  him  and  inspect  his  museum,  I  went  to  him,  and  was 
much  delighted  with  his  fine  collection,  which  consists  entirely 
of  preparations  for  his  lectures  on  midwifery,  which  are  deliv- 
ered at  Sir  Patrick  Dun's  Hospital.  The  specimens  were  very 
beautiful,  and  after  examining  them  I  was  taken  through  the 
hospital  by  Dr.  Montgomery.  It  is  built  entirely  of  stone,  with 
stone  floors  in  the  wards,  which  are  very  high  and  ventilated  by 
apertures  in  the  four  corners  of  the  ceiling  communicating  with 
the  air  without. 

Part  of  another  day  I  devoted  to  the  museum  of  Dr.  Macart- 
ney, at  Trinity  College.     He  made  an  appointment  and  occupied 

13 


194  JONATHAN    MASON    WAEEEN. 

two  hours  in  showing  me  the  whole  of  it.  The  preparations 
are  many  of  them  very  fine  and  made  by  himself,  he  giving  the 
greater  part  of  his  time  to  the  sole  object  of  preparing  for  his 
lectures  on  anatomy  and  physiology,  of  which  he  is  professor  in 
Trinity  College.  Among  the  curiosities  which  he  has  here,  is  a 
paper  signed  by  a  great  number  of  persons,  himself  at  their 
head,  for  giving  their  bodies  after  death  to  be  dissected.  He  has 
already  the  skeletons  of  one  or  two  persons  who  have  given  their 
bodies,  —  one  of  Dr.  O'Connor,  whose  heart  he  has  burned.  He 
preserves  the  ashes  in  a  little  bronze  vase  on  a  marble  pedestal 
with  an  appropriate  inscription.  He  also  has  the  arm  exposed 
with  the  skin  on  in  a  dried  state.  Besides  O'Connor's  body, 
Dr.  Macartney  has  the  skeleton  of  Madame  Barre,  a  celebrated 
Amazon  under  Robespierre  in  the  French  revolution  and  a  cor- 
respondent of  Bonaparte's.  She  left  her  body  and  ten  pounds 
to  have  it  dissected  by  the  Doctor,  writing  this  part  of  her  will 
with  her  own  hand.  He  has  also  a  portion  of  her  skin  tanned 
quite  as  good  as  shoe-leather,  of  which  he  gave  me  a  piece  for 
your  museum.  He  has  also  the  skeleton  of  a  man  with  many  of 
the  muscles  of  the  back  completely  ossified,  also  of  the  legs,  and 
other  parts  of  the  body.  All  the  joints  are  in  a  state  of  an- 
chylosis. The  skeleton  of  an  Irish  giant  seven  and  a  half  feet 
high  is  also  curious. 

Dr.  Macartney  is  one  of  the  most  eccentric  men  I  have  yet 
come  across,  and  his  conversation  was  very  amusing.  He  seems 
to  set  but  little  value  on  his  wax  preparations,  which  he  keeps  in 
a  kind  of  outhouse  in  a  very  good  state  of  preparation.  A  small 
burying-ground  for  the  remains  of  the  dissected  is  just  behind 
the  dissecting-room,  and  over  the  entrance  a  marble  slab  with 
something  like  the  following  inscription :  "  Here  lie  the  bodies 
of  those  who  after  their  death  have  honorably  chosen  to  be  of 
use  to  their  fellow-creatures." 

Dr.  Macartney  gave  me  some  good  hints  as  to  making  prep- 
arations, —  one  for  the  preservation  of  their  color,  which  is  to 
immerse  them,  previous  to  putting  them  in  spirit,  in  a  solution 
of  alum  and  nitrate  of  potash.  Wet  preparations  may  be  in- 
jected with  this  for  preserving  their  forms,  and  may  also  be  suf- 
ficiently hardened  to  keep  without  the  aid  of  spirit. 

Besides  the  above  hospitals  and  museums  I  have  been  all  over 
the  fine  Lunatic  Hospital  founded  by  Dean  Swift,  and  of  which 


EDINBURGH.  195 

he  himself  was  the  first  inmate,  and  the  Steevens  Hospital,  the 
most  extensive  in  Dublin.  The  chief  surgeons,  Drs.  Colles  and 
Cusack,  are  now  in  London  attending  an  examination  in  regard 
to  the  state  of  medical  science  in  Great  Britain.  I  have  been  at 
two  or  three  other  hospitals  with  the  physicians,  to  most  of 
whom  I  have  been  introduced.1  Having  seen  so  much,  I  shall 
not  remain  longer  in  Dublin  ;  for  though  there  is  no  difficulty  in 
visiting  these  institutions,  they  are  rather  particular  in  regard  to 
students  following  them  unless  regularly  entered.  I  shall  there- 
fore stay  longer  in  Edinburgh,  where  I  can  attend  without 
difficulty.  I  am  going  into  Wales  for  a  few  days,  and  through 
to  Liverpool,  where  I  have  some  business  to  attend  to.  I  shall 
then  take  the  steamboat  back  again,  and  go  up  by  the  Giant's 
Causeway  to  Scotland. 

It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  hear  that  your  health  continues 
good.  I  trust  you  will  not  give  up  your  summer  tour,  which  you 
must  require  after  the  hard  work  of  the  past  year.  I  hope  to 
learn  by  the  next  letters  from  home  that  you  have  done  this. 

Your  affectionate  son, 

J.  M.  Warren. 

Edinburgh,  Aug.  22,  1834. 

My  dear  Father,  —  I  wrote  last  from  Liverpool,  which  I 
left  the  following  day  after  having  made  a  trip  to  Manchester, 
seen  the  Royal  Infirmary,  and  despatched  my  other  business 
there.  For  a  well-conducted  institution,  one  great  feature  of 
which  is  neatness,  I  have  seen  no  hospital  to  compare  with  that 
of  Liverpool,  which  I  was  able  to  examine  very  thoroughly 
through  the  kindness  of  a  friend  who  had  lately  been  appointed 
surgeon  there.  The  managers  have  just  had  another  building 
erected  expressly  for  syphilitic  patients,  so  that  this  unpleasant 
class  are  almost  entirely  got  rid  of.  I  remember  nothing  pecu- 
liar in  treatment  or  apparatus  at  this  hospital.  In  the  kitchen 
everything  is  cooked  by  steam,  and  a  small  engine  is  constantly 

1  Dr.  Warren  seems  to  have  kept  up  to  the  end  of  his  days  the  interest  in  his 
Irish  brethren  begun  at  this  period,  and  always  to  have  noticed  their  progress  with 
a  watchful  eye.  In  a  review  of  his  work  on  "  Fissure  of  the  Soft  and  Hard  Palate," 
which  appeared  in  the  "Dublin  Quarterly  Journal  of  Medical  Science"  for  Novem- 
ber, 1866,  the  writer  says  :  "  Mr.  Warren's  acquaintance  with  Irish  surgery  might 
be  a  lesson  to  many  at  home  who  remain  habitually  ignorant  of  the  doings  of 
their  brethren." 


196  JONATHAN    MASON    WAEEEN. 

at  work  pumping  water  to  the  different  reservoirs  in  the  build- 
ing and  for  other  purposes. 

On  my  return  to  Dublin  I  remained  two  days  to  collect  my 
luggage,  see  my  friends,  etc.  I  called  on  Dr.  Breen  to  take 
leave  of  him.  He  desired  to  be  particularly  remembered  to 
you,  and  much  regretted  not  to  have  heard  from  j^ou  more  fre- 
quently. He  has  been  very  polite  to  me  during  my  stay  here, 
and  altogether  I  have  seldom  experienced  more  hospitality  and 
good-will  than  during  my  visit  to  Dublin.  Every  one  seemed 
to  do  his  best  to  oblige  me  without  any  reserve. 

The  cholera,  which  for  the  past  few  weeks  has  been  gradually 
increasing  in  Dublin,  on  my  last  visit  there  was  reported  by 
some  persons  to  be  as  bad  as  during  its  presence  two  years  since, 
when  over  two  hundred  were  admitted  daily  into  the  hospitals. 
Dr.  Breen  told  me,  however,  that  this  was  by  no  means  the  fact, 
although  the  disease  was  quite  as  fatal,  and  many  more  of  the 
upper  classes  were  attacked  than  before.  There  are  no  hos- 
pitals for  cholera  victims  now,  and  none  are  admitted  into  the 
others.  The  cholera  is  largely  prevalent  now  in  London, 
though  it  is  difficult  to  say  to  what  extent,  as  no  reports  are 
published.  Mr.  Treat  had  the  kindness  to  show  me  over  the 
fever  hospital,  one  of  the  most  richly  endowed  in  Dublin. 

I  arrived  in  Edinburgh  on  the  16th,  and  on  the  following  day 
delivered  my  letter  of  introduction  to  Liston,  who  remembered 
my  face,  though  somewhat  altered  in  the  course  of  two  years. 
He  received  me  very  politely,  and  I  have  since  been  round  with 
him  daily  at  his  hospital.  He  explained  to  me  all  the  impor- 
tant cases.  The  first  day  we  had  the  reduction  of  the  dislo- 
cated thumb  of  a  boy,  which  had  been  some  time  in  that  state. 
By  a  cord  tied  round  the  second  joint  all  the  force  was  applied 
that  could  be  without  pulling  off  the  thumb,  and  this  failing, 
the  lateral  ligament,  I  think,  was  divided,  and  the  reduction 
effected.  The  second  case  was  that  of  staphyloraphy,  which 
he  was  obliged  to  defer  till  later  in  the  day.  He  asked  me  to 
be  present,  but  I  arrived  by  mistake  only  just  as  he  was  finish- 
ing. However,  he  explained  to  me  his  method,  which  differs 
from  both  that  of  Lisfranc  and  that  of  Roux.  Having  fresh- 
ened the  edges  of  the  palate  by  running  in  a  sharp  guarded 
bistoury  at  the  top  and  sliding  it  down  on  both  sides,  he  then 
passed  his  ligatures  with  an  eyed  hook  less  curved  than  that 


SCOTCH   SURGERY.  197 

commonly  used.  For  this  reason  he  passes  it  from  without 
inwards.  The  ligature,  having  been  passed  on  one  side,  is  seized 
by  another  hook  behind  and  drawn  through  double.  Then  to 
pass  it  on  the  other  side,  a  single  ligature  is  tied  to  the  loop  of 
the  first,  this  threaded  and  carried  through  on  the  opposite  side, 
thus  drawing  after  it  the  double  ligature.  When  placed,  all  the 
ligatures  are  thus  double  ;  but  this  is  of  no  great  consequence 
so  long  as  the  rest  of  the  operation  is  simplified.  I  examined 
the  patient  afterwards,  and  the  edges  all  seemed  to  be  well  in 
contact,  only  a  small  aperture  being  left  at  the  top,  just  above 
the  upper  ligature,  without  which  I  have  seldom  seen  a  case 
immediately  after  the  operation.  This,  I  suppose,  closes  in 
time. 

In  cataract  Liston  prefers  depression  of  the  lens.  Like  Roux, 
he  applies  a  blister  to  the  back  of  the  neck,  but  just  after 
instead  of  before  the  operation.  To-day  I  hope  to  see  him  per- 
form lithotomy,  at  which  he  is  very  expert. 

Mr.  Syme  since  I  was  here  has  been  appointed  professor  of 
surgery,  and  is  now  at  the  Royal  Infirmary.  I  have  not  yet 
been  through  his  wards,  but  have  called  on  him  and  am  to  dine 
at  his  house  on  Saturday. 

Sir  George  Ballingall,  professor  of  military  surgery,  I  also 
visited  yesterday.  Two  years  ago  I  called  on  him  with  my  poor 
friend  Jackson  to  make  a  farewell  visit.  At  that  time  Jackson 
promised  to  send  him  a  book  on  military  surgery,  and  it  is  rather 
singular  that  the  book  was  left  at  his  house  yesterday  without 
any  indication  of  the  means  by  which  it  came. 

The  meeting  of  learned  men  is  to  take  place  here  on  the  6th 
of  September.  Sir  Astley  is  to  be  here  with  others.  I  shall 
return  to  London  immediately  after  it  is  over. 

I  remain  your  affectionate  son, 

J.  M.  Warren. 

Edinburgh,  Aug.  30,  1834. 

My  dear  Father,  —  Since  my  last  letter  I  have  been  at- 
tending the  hospitals  regularly,  and  have  seen  one  or  two  very 
good  operations  by  Liston.  The  most  peculiar  was  that  for  the 
stone,  which  he  considers  one  of  his  best  and  most  original. 

I  dined  a  few  days  ago  with  Syme,  and  met  a  number  of 
pleasant  people,  among  others  a  son  of  Dr.  Thomson,  author 


198  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

of  the  work  on  Inflammation,  with  whom  I  have  since  break- 
fasted. The  father  and  two  sons,  Loth  surgeons,  are  all  in  the 
same  house.  The  former  has  his  name  in  the  centre  of  the 
street  door,  and  the  sons  on  either  side.  The  father  has,  how- 
ever, mostly  relinquished  his  practice,  and  passes  most  of  his 
time  at  his  country-seat.  After  breakfast  Dr.  Thomson  showed 
me  a  part  of  the  splendid  plates  which  his  father  has  been  col- 
lecting for  many  years.  They  now  number  three  thousand,  the 
greater  portion  of  them  drawn  by  the  Doctor  himself.  He 
showed  me  those  relating  to  diseases  of  the  urinary  organs. 
The  pathological  state  is  very  beautifully  and  accurately 
represented,  much  surpassing  even  the  drawings  of  Cruveilhier, 
which  I  have  seen  at  Bailliere's  in  Paris. 

I  have  become  acquainted  with  some  very  pleasant  people 
here,  and  expect  to  see  a  number  of  my  friends  at  the  end  of 
the  next  week,  who  will  probably  be  coming  to  the  meeting  on 
the  8th.  I  shall  leave  here  on  the  16th  for  London.  On  the 
15th  is  to  be  a  grand  dinner  to  Lord  Grey,  given  by  the  citizens 
of  Edinburgh  in  approval  of  his  political  course.  This  will 
probably  be  the  most  splendid  affair  that  ever  took  place  in 
Edinburgh,  as  all  the  Scotch  nobility  and  many  of  the  English 
are  to  be  present.  The  cholera  I  hear  is  very  bad  at  present  in 
Dublin,  one  hundred  and  fifty  to  one  hundred  and  sixty  cases 
per  day,  and  many  of  the  most  respectable  citizens  have  fallen 
victims.  This  city  has  never  been  more  healthy.  I  shall  go 
this  week  for  a  few  days  into  the  Highlands,  and  on  my  return 
stop  a  day  at  Glasgow,  to  look  again  at  the  Museum  there. 

London,  Sept.  22,  1834. 

My  dear  Father,  —  I  had  intended  to  write  you  by  the 
last  packet  some  account  of  the  proceedings  of  the  British  As- 
sociation at  Edinburgh,  but  the  occupations  of  the  week  were 
so  numerous  and  the  hospitality  of  the  citizens  so  great  as  to 
leave  little  time  for  myself.  The  members  of  the  Association 
began  to  assemble  three  or  four  days  before  the  16th,  and  many 
of  them  were  received  into  the  houses  of  the  most  distinguished 
citizens,  every  facility  being  afforded  them  for  seeing  everything 
worthy  of  notice  in  the  city.  Strangers  found  all  the  libraries 
and  scientific  institutions  open  to  them  free  of  expense ;  and  as 
soon  as  I  presented  myself  at  the  Royal  Institution  I  found 


THE    BEITISH   ASSOCIATION".  199 

myself  enrolled  without  difficulty  a  member  of  the  society,  and 
tickets  given  me  for  various  breakfasts,  etc.,  with  admission  to 
all  the  picture  galleries  and  museums.  It  was  necessary  that 
every  stranger  should  bring  an  introduction  from  one  of  the 
perpetual  members  of  the  Association  in  order  to  become  a 
member.  I  had  neglected  to  do  this,  and  on  being  asked  who 
introduced  me,  the  secretary  immediately  stepped  up  and  said 
that  he  did,  although  I  had  not  known  that  he  was  acquainted 
with  me.  Among  the  celebrated  men  assembled  on  the  occasion 
were  Arago,  the  astronomer  royal  of  France  ;  Moll,  of  Utrecht, 
superintendent  of  the  dikes  in  Holland,  with  whom  I  break- 
fasted at  Dr.  Thomson's  ;  Brown  the  naturalist ;  the  younger 
Ross,  who  made  the  expedition  to  the  north  pole ;  Dalton  the 
chemist ;  Sir  Charles  Bell,  and  other  eminent  savants.1 

Of  the  branch  of  medicine,  Dr.  Abercrombie,  whose  looks  I 
liked  much,  was  chosen  president,  and  Dr.  Roget  secretary. 
Some  interesting  papers  were  read  by  young  Dr.  Thomson  on 
the  lymphatics,  Sir  Charles  Bell  discoursed  on  the  nerves,  and 
Dr.  Hodgkin  on  the  mammillated  state  of  the  stomach,  though 
no  very  important  debates  followed.  Every  evening  there  was 
a  meeting  of  the  Association  in  the  great  assembly  room  in 
George  Street,  where  was  a  brilliant  gathering  of  ladies,  admitted 
by  members'  tickets.  At  this  meeting  papers  of  general  interest 
were  read.  Dr.  Robinson,  of  Dublin,  read  an  account  of  the 
comet  to  appear  in  1835 ;  Dr.  Lardner  explained  the  celebrated 
calculating-machine  of  Babbage,  and  another  gentleman  read  an 

1  This  meeting  of  the  British  Association  was  the  largest  and  the  most  enthusi- 
astic yet  held  by  the  society,  and  was  noted  for  the  number  and  distinction  of  the 
savants  present.  Among  these  Agassiz,  then  only  in  his  twenty-seventh  year,  made 
his  first  public  advent  on  the  scientific  arena,  and  before  an  audience  but  little 
disposed  to  take  any  statement  on  trust.  Rich  in  the  commendation  of  a  manly 
and  genial  presence,  with  a  noble  simplicity  and  a  fine  Alpine  flavor  about  him,  he 
poured  forth  the  revelations  of  the  antique  world,  like  the  apostle  of  a  new  evangel. 
The  flow  of  his  fervid  words,  quickened  by  a  fire  from  the  heart  of  things,  like 
"  that  large  utterance  of  the  early  gods,"  inspired  his  tongue  with  irresistible  persua- 
sion, and  won  conviction  from  those  to  whom  Truth  was  all  in  all,  and  who  knew 
that  from  her  presentment  there  was  no  appeal. 

"  I  met  you  first  at  Edinburgh  in  1834,"  wrote  the  venerable  Professor  Sedg- 
wick in  1871.  "It  is  a  great  pleasure  to  me,  my  dear  friend,  to  see  again  by  the 
vision  of  memory  that  fine  youthful  person,  that  benevolent  face,  and  to  hear  again, 
as  it  were,  the  cheerful  ring  of  the  sweet  and  powerful  voice  by  which  you  made 
the  old  Scotchmen  start  and  stare,  while  you  were  bringing  to  life  again  the  fishes 
of  their  old  red  sandstone." 


200  JONATHAN    MASON"   WAEREN". 

interesting  paper  on  geology.  After  this  paper  was  read  there 
was  a  promenade,  with  refreshments ;  and  this  ended  the  day. 

I  think  I  never  experienced  a  more  ample  display  of  hospi- 
tality than  during  the  week  of  the  meeting.  I  hardly  ever 
breakfasted  or  dined  at  home,  unless  when  I  had  some  of  my 
friends  to  dine  with  me,  for  a  fortnight.  I  was  much  pleased 
with  old  Dr.  Thomson,  and  was  frequently  at  his  house,  where 
many  of  the  strangers  were  entertained.  A  gentleman  named 
Arnott  was  also  very  polite  to  me.  I  met  at  his  house  Dr. 
Arnott,  who  wrote  a  work  on  physics,  and  other  literary  men. 
I  likewise  breakfasted  with  Dr.  Maclagan,  an  eminent  physician 
here.  A  Mr.  White  called  on  me,  supposing  it  to  be  you, 
having  seen  my  name  on  the  list  of  visitors.  He  said  he  had 
received  much  attention  from  you  while  on  a  visit  to  Boston  in 
1816,  and  desired  his  best  respects  to  you.  He  asked  me  to  his 
house,  but  I  had  so  many  other  engagements  that  I  was  pre- 
vented from  going. 

I  left  Edinburgh  directly  after  the  dinner  to  Earl  Grey,  an 
account  of  which  I  must  defer  to  my  next  letter,  and  came 
direct  to  London.  I  shall  remain  here  this  week  and  then  go  to 
the  Continent.  London  is  quite  deserted  at  present,  a  great  con- 
trast to  the  gayeties  of  three  months  since. 

Yesterday  I  went  to  Mr.  Bates's  country-seat,  about  seven 
miles  from  London,  to  pass  the  day.1  I  have  met  with  no  wel- 
come more  constant  or  more  kind  than  that  of  Mr.  Bates,  and 
there  is  no  man  for  whose  character  I  have  a  greater  esteem. 
As  a  merchant  he  has  reached  the  very  summit  of  success,  and 
is  respected  by  all  classes  of  society  here.  He  is  still  true  to  his 
countrymen,  and  does  everything  in  his  power  to  promote  their 
interests.  His  family  is  a  delightful  one,  and  I  always  meet 
a  large  circle  of  Americans  at  his  table. 

In  the  afternoon  we  rode  over  to  Richmond  Park  in  one 
of  Raynor's  gigs,  which  he  has  imported,  made  in  the  best  man- 
ner, and  which  as  a  light  summer  vehicle  has  been  much  admired 
here.     He  has  been  much  pleased  with  it,  but  thinks  that  the 

1  Nov.  15,  1834,  Dr.  John  C.  Warren  wrote  to  his  son  :  "  Mr.  Daly  reports 
that  you  made  a  speech  at  Mrs.  Bates's  breakfast.  This  pleased  me  much,  as  it 
must  have  been  as  difficult  an  occasion  for  a  young  man  as  could  well  be,  and  you 
have  had  few  opportunities  for  extemporaneous  speaking.  This  is  simply  an  affair 
of  habit,  however.  I  spoke  with  difficulty  at  first.  It  becomes  sensibly  more  easy 
every  year." 


PAEIS.  201 

English  cabriolet  as  a  comfortable  vehicle  for  the  winter  is 
preferable.  I  told  him  your  idea  of  having  one  imported,  and 
he  offered,  if  I  would  give  him  the  order,  to  send  you  a  gig, 
horse,  harness,  and  everything  complete,  made  in  a  manner  best 
suited  to  your  profession.  I  told  him  I  would  write  you,  and  if 
you  still  thought  it  an  object  would  be  much  indebted  if  he 
would  take  the  trouble.  He  is  the  best  judge  of  what  would  be 
required,  and  I  think  if  you  have  not  yet  furnished  yourself  there 
could  not  be  a  better  opportunity.  I  think  it  would  be  advisable 
also  to  send  the  horse.  Such  an  animal  as  the  English  gig 
horse  is  seldom  seen  in  our  country,  and  forms  quite  a  distinct 
breed  used  solely  for  this  purpose. 

Paris,  Oct.  5,  1834. 

I  arrived  here  on  the  1st  of  October,  as  had  been  my  intention. 
Everything  seems  to  be  going  on  well  here,  the  city  being 
healthy  and  free  from  cholera,  which  has  prevailed  more  or  less 
all  over  Great  Britain. 

.  .  .  Dupuytren,  I  am  sorry  to  find,  is  very  ill,  probably  dan- 
gerously so.  His  disease  is  said  to  be  softening  of  the  brain  and 
probably  disease  of  the  heart,  both  having  no  doubt  been  much 
accelerated  by  his  free  mode  of  living  and  the  violent  passions 
to  which  he  occasionally  gave  way. 

.  .  .  Dieffenbach  from  Vienna  has  been  here  lately,  making 
some  beautiful  noses  at  the  different  hospitals.  They  are  said 
to  be  done  in  a  manner  almost  incredible.  I  much  regret  not  to 
have  seen  the  operations. 

I  am  now  living  in  a  hotel  and  expect  to  get  settled  during 
the  week.  I  have  not  quite  determined  what  course  to  pursue, 
but  think  I  shall  begin  with  the  Venereal  Hospital  and  study 
surgery  till  January,  and  then  go  to  Louis  when  his  lectures 
commence.  He  has  just  published  an  answer  to  Broussais's  work, 
which  it  completely  refutes.     It  is  dedicated  to  Jackson. 

I  am  very  glad  to  learn  that  your  health  continues  good,  and 
hope  it  will  remain  so  during  the  lectures.  I  think  I  must  de- 
vote a  letter  to  convincing  you  of  the  importance  of  giving  up 
practice  for  a  year  and  breaking  up  old  habits  and  passing 
a  year  abroad.  I  have  talked  much  on  this  subject  with  various 
persons  here,  and  have  no  doubt  that  the  change  would  add  ten 
years  to  your  life. 


202  JONATHAN    MASON   WARREN. 

Paris,  Oct.  14,  1834. 

I  have  begun  my  studies  at  the  Venereal  Hospital  under 
Ricord,  and  have  made  an  arrangement  to  attend  La  Pitie  in  the 
afternoon  and  attend  to  diseases  of  the  chest  with  my  old  friend 
Hache,  Louis's  interne. 

I  had  an  opportunity  to  see  Dieffenbach,  who  proved  to  be 
still  here,  exercise  his  skill  a  few  days  since  on  two  noses,  both 
of  which  he  repaired  in  a  very  ingenious  way.  It  would  be  im- 
possible to  describe  the  intricacy  of  these  operations,  or  the 
complications  that  arise  from  cutting,  paring,  and  fitting  the 
different  parts  into  place.  He  works  with  great  perseverance, 
and  does  not  spare  pins  or  ligatures,  which  are  used  in  a  most 
liberal  manner. 

When  a  whole  nose  is  to  be  made  the  form  is  first  shaped 
with  a  piece  of  sticking-plaster,  which  is  applied  to  the  forehead 
and  the  skin  dissected  out,  leaving  only  an  attachment  of  a 
small  pedicel  between  the  eyebrows.  The  incision  is  extended 
down  rather  farther  on  one  side  of  this  pedicel  than  on  the 
other,  that  in  twisting  the  flap  round  less  strangulation  may  be 
produced  in  the  vessels.  This  is  then  nicely  sewed  and  pinned 
down  in  its  place,  leaving  the  pedicel,  which  forms  a  little  boure- 
let  and  is  divided  and  fitted  in  a  proper  manner  after  the  other 
parts  have  united.  The  success  depends  in  a  great  measure  upon 
the  after  treatment,  such  as  keeping  down  the  inflammation  and 
moulding,  pulling,  and  working  out  the  nose  into  a  becoming 
shape. 

Noses  are  not  the  only  parts  which  Dieffenbach  restores,  and 
several  of  us  have  applied  to  him  to  give  us  a  course  of  opera- 
tions to  illustrate  his  peculiar  skill.  We  have  not  yet  received 
an  answer,  though  he  appeared  much  flattered  by  the  request. 
I  am  afraid  we  shall  not  succeed,  as  his  stay  here  is  very 
limited.  .  .  . 

Sir  Astley  Cooper  arrived  in  town  a  few  days  since  from  Lyons.1 
He  is  said  to  pass  mUch  of  his  time  dissecting  at  the  Hotel  Dieu. 
I  called  on  him  yesterday  and  left  my  card,  though  I  found  it 
impossible  to  see  him  from  the  great  number  of  callers.  .  .  . 

1  "Oct.  8,  1834.  — Professor  Dieffenbach  called,  without  an  introduction,  to  ask 
me  to  go  to  the  Hopital  de  St.  Louis  with  him  to  see  him  make  two  new  noses, 
which  I  declined,  as  I  did  not  wish  to  be  mentioned  in  the  papers."  —  Note-book 
of  Sir  Astley  Cooper. 


LISFRANC.  203 

They  have  a  very  good  arrangement  here  for  stopping  a  horse 
when  disposed  to  run,  in  the  shape  of  a  double  pair  of  reins. 
Every  cab  horse  is  driven  with  a  curb  and  a  snaffle-bit.  One 
pair  of  reins  is  attached  to  the  snaffle,  and  with  this  they  are 
usually  guided.  The  other,  small  and  round,  is  connected  with 
the  curb  and  rests  on  the  dasher  ready  for  use,  should  the  animal 
start.  I  should  imagine  this  to  be  preferable  to  the  machinery 
which  I  hear  you  have  attached  to  your  gig,  as  I  fear  such  an 
impediment  would  induce  a  spirited  horse  to  kick  himself  clear 
of  the  obstacle. 

Paris,  Nov.  22,  1834. 

Coming  out  of  Lisfranc's  lecture  the  other  day  with  Dr.  Davis, 
I  happened  to  pass  within  range  of  his  eyes,  and  he,  having  be- 
come well  acquainted  with  my  face,  as  I  commonly  sit  directly 
in  front  of  him,  addressed  us  with  "Comment  cela-va-t-il ? " 
and  further  inquired  if  it  was  as  cold  in  our  part  of  the  world  as 
here.  As  he  probably  took  us  for  Englishmen,  I  set  him  right 
and  then  seized  the  opportunity  to  ask  him  in  regard  to  the 
operations  practised  on  the  mastoid  process.  I  told  him  of  your 
case,  and  on  his  inquiring  if  the  patient  was  deaf,  I  said  I  be- 
lieved not.  He  informed  me  that  he  had  never  done  the  opera- 
tion himself,  and  thought  it  would  be  useless  except  in  case  of 
caries  of  the  part ;  also  that  it  was  not  now  performed  in  France. 
The  patient's  disease  he  thought  must  be  nervous,  and  he  should 
treat  it  by  bleeding  or  locally  by  blisters.  I  have  seen  some 
cases  of  fever  or  phthisis  with  those  unpleasant  noises  which 
seemed  to  be  entirely  owing  to  a  nervous  affection.  You,  of 
course,  know  best  the  constitution,  etc.,  of  your  patient. 

I  have  been  looking  about  this  last  week  for  some  Chinese  and 
other  heads  which  you  could  use  to  illustrate  a  lecture.  The 
only  ones  I  can  find  are  in  a  magnificent  work  published  by  the 
Phrenological  Society  here,  consisting  of  fine  lithographic  prints 
in  folio  of  all  the  skulls,  both  human  and  comparative,  of  the 
different  nations  of  the  world  and  of  animals,  of  which  work  I 
send  you  the  title. 

I  still  continue  to  take  courses  at  Lisfranc's  in  the  afternoon. 
Next  week  I  shall  commence  dissecting  with  two  of  the  internes 
of  La  Pitie\  more  particularly  with  reference  to  surgical  anatomy. 
I  have  not  seen  any  operation  since  I  have  been  in  Europe  that 


204  JONATHAN    MASON   WARREN. 

could  at  all  compare  with  yours  of  the  tumor  of  the  neck.  They 
seldom  perform  such  delicate  operations  on  this  side  of  the 
Atlantic.     They  are  too  fatiguing  for  the  students. 

Paris,  Jan.  4,  1835. 

My  dear  Father,  —  In  entering  upon  another  year  I  have 
changed  my  scene  of  action,  and  am  now  at  work  in  Louis's 
ward,  where,  though  the  labor  is  greater,  it  is  at  least  refreshing 
to  see  the  attention  given  to  the  examination  and  diagnosis  of 
disease,  so  seldom  practised  by  the  surgeons  here,  who  seem  to 
consider  that  the  all-important  matter  is  the  local  affection,  to 
which  all  their  efforts  are  directed.  Surgery  as  a  science  is 
undoubtedly  far  more  advanced  in  England  and  America  than 
in  France,  while  medicine  —  as  to  which  we  have  always  flat- 
tered ourselves,  under  our  English  instructions,  so  enlightened, 
laughing  in  our  sleeves  at  the  French  system  —  is  now,  under 
the  efforts  of  Louis  and  his  followers,  emerging  from  the  cloudy 
and  theoretical  ruts  which  the  English  have  never  dared  to 
enter.  "Keep  the  bowels  open"  appears  to  be  the  great  point 
in  their  practice,  all  other  means  being  accessory.  In  fact,  I  have 
myself  always  been  so  under  the  influence  of  this  idea  that  on 
visiting  Edinburgh  it  struck  me  as  an  era  in  my  life  when  I  first 
had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  old  Dr.  Hamilton  on  Purgatives, 
who  now  walks  about  in  his  three-cornered  hat,  a  long-retired 
veteran  of  the  old  regime,  and  no  doubt  prides  himself  that 
his  ideas,  at  least  in  medicine,  have  stood  the  test  of  the  progress 
of  science  in  Great  Britain.  .  .  . 

The  packet  of  the  8th  brought  us  the  President's  message, 
which  has  caused  great  excitement,  both  among  the  Americans 
and  the  French.  War  appears  to  be  much  discussed.  The 
French  feel  their  honor  to  be  called  in  question  by  the  message, 
and  on  this  account  the  king  yesterday  declared  in  the  "  Mon- 
iteur  "  the  recall  of  the  ambassador  at  Washington.  Mr.  Liv- 
ingston has  received'his  passport  and  is  to  leave  Paris  to-day. 
The  king  has  called  a  special  meeting  of  the  Chambers,  having 
something  of  importance  to  lay  before  them.  The  bill  is  to  be 
brought  up  to-morrow,  to  prove,  as  they  say,  that  they  have 
kept  their  word.  If  the  claims  are  rejected,  war  is  likely  to  be 
the  inevitable  consequence ;  and  as  it  is,  there  are  rumors 
to-day  that  an  embargo  is  to  be  laid  on  our  commerce  in  order 


FINAL   STUDIES.  205 

to  satisfy  their  wounded  honor.  We  are  anxiously  awaiting  the 
news  from  Congress  and  the  probability  of  our  being  driven 
out  of  Paris.  If  any  embargo  is  laid  it  will  be  necessary  to 
write  by  way  of  England,  though  I  doubt  much  if  affairs  will 
become  so  serious. 

Paris,  Jan.  26, 1835. 

The  American  claims  during  the  past  month  have  occupied 
the  greater  part  of  the  French  journals,  and  the  Government 
has  finally  put  them  into  the  hands  of  a  committee  for  examina- 
tion. The  ministers  are  using  all  their  influence  to  have  them 
pass,  but  from  what  I  can  learn  there  is  a  great  disposition  in 
the  Chamber  of  Deputies  to  reject  them,  the  more  that  some 
one  has  demanded  in  the  Chamber  an  explanation  from  the 
ministry  with  regard  to  the  Russian  claims  which  it  is  rumored 
have  been  lately  advanced  by  a  commission  from  that  country. 
Nothing  could  render  our  debt  more  unpopular  than  by  thus 
putting  it  into  comparison  with  that  of  the  latter  government. 
The  report  of  the  Chambers  will  no  doubt  be  deferred  as  long 
as  possible,  so  that  no  fear  need  be  entertained  of  an  immediate 
war,  at  least  from  this  quarter. 

I  have  ceased  dissecting  for  the  last  week  or  two,  and  am 
now  occupied  in  some  of  those  little  practical  courses  peculiar 
to  Paris,  which  it  is  desirable  to  attend  to  immediately  in 
case  of  war.  One  of  these  is  on  bandaging,  by  Riban,  which 
consists  of  a  lecture,  every  third  dajr  of  an  hour,  on  the  different 
methods,  taken  in  order,  commencing  with  the  simple  one  for 
any  part  of  the  body  and  followed  by  the  more  complicated. 
The  intermediate  days  are  employed  by  the  students  in  applying 
the  bandages.  Have  you  seen  a  work  published  by  Mayor,  of 
Lausanne,  describing  a  system  of  bandaging  by  handkerchiefs, 
which  take  the  place  of  the  ordinary  bandages  for  all  parts  of 
the  body?  These  are  certainly  very  ingenious,  and  may  be 
called  into  use  with  especial  effect  when  any  sudden  application 
is  required  by  a  surgeon  who  has  no  access  to  the  customary 
resources. 

I  am  also  following  a  course  of  midwifery  with  Madame  La- 
chappelle 2  in  the  evening,  of  which  the  touches  and  accouche- 

1  "  I  remember  Madame  Lachapelle,  —  the  niece,  I  think,  of  her  predecessor,  the 
great  Madame,  —  as  one  who  taught  me  more  practical  midwifery  in  her  private 
course  in  that  department  than  I  learned  in  three  years  at  the  Harvard  Medical 
School."  —  Dr.  Henry  I.  Bowditch. 


206  JONATHAN"   MASON   WARREN. 

merits  are  the  most  important  parts.  I  am  moreover  following 
up  SichePs  consultations  during  the  day  for  diseases  of  the  eye. 
He  pursues  the  German  method  of  refining  the  division  of  differ- 
ent diseases  almost  to  infinity,  and  I  desire  to  examine  a  little 
into  the  probability  of  this  method.  Hitherto  specialties  in  dis- 
eases have  been  universally  avoided  in  France,  and  with  the 
exception  of  a  consultation  on  the  eye  held  by  Sanson  at  the 
HcStel  Dieu,  no  classification  has  been  made  till  lately.  In  fol- 
lowing some  of  the  practitioners  I  have  often  had  occasion  to 
verify  the  justness  of  a  remark  in  one  of  your  letters,  that  care 
should  be  taken  in  the  matter  of  specialties  that  general  medi- 
cal attainments  should  not  be  neglected.  In  fact,  one  sees  some 
of  these  men  pronouncing  a  disease  rheumatic,  catarrhal,  scrof- 
ulous, ophthalmic,  etc.,  when  you  doubt  whether  they  are  com- 
petent to  give  an  opinion  as  to  the  existence  of  any  one  of  these 
diseases  in  other  parts  of  the  body,  much  less  when  complicated 
in  so  delicate  an  organ  as  the  eye.  .  .  . 

Louis's  lectures  are  excellent,  and  he  delivers  them  with 
much  greater  facility  than  he  used.  He  has  a  large  crowd 
following  him,  which  shows  that  they  are  beginning  to  appre- 
ciate him. 

Paris,  Feb.  12,  1835. 

I  leave  Paris  in  the  middle  of  April,  and  shall  be  heartily 
glad  when  that  date  arrives,  as  the  time  begins  to  lag  a  little. 

Paris,  Feb.' 26, 1835. 

From  the  contents  of  your  letter  I  shall  be  induced  to  sail  by 
the  very  first  part  of  May  for  England,  and  as  soon  as  my 
affairs  there  are  completed.  I  shall  allow  nothing  to  delay  my 
departure  later  than  the  packet  of  June  8  from  London  to 
New  York. 

I  am  just  ending  a  very  busy  month,  in  which  I  shall  finish  a 
nice  course  of  bandaging,  which  has  more  than  answered  my 
expectations.  Included  in  it  were  the  different  methods  of 
healing  fractures  adopted  by  the  French  and  English  surgeons, 
and  many  very  important  things  in  "  La  Petite  Chirurgie." 
This  branch  of  surgery  I  should  think  might  be  taught  with 
more  care  to  the  rising  generation  at  home.  .  .  . 

My  next  month  will  be  chiefly  occupied  in  following  Roux  at 
La  Charite  and  the  course  of  surgical  anatomy.     I  have  just 


AMERICAN    CLAIMS.  207 

been  making  an  arrangement  with  M.  Denonvilliers,  the  head 
interne  of  Lisfrane,  just  graduated,  for  a  series  of  surgical  ope- 
rations. I  have  my  rooms  engaged  here  till  the  16th  of  April, 
and  shall  not  be  able  to  leave  before  that  time. 

I  saw  Roux  this  week  perform  his  own  operation  of  staphy- 
loraphy,  which  he  does  beautifully.  Though  I  have  written 
you  on  this  subject  already  once  or  twice,  I  commonly  find 
something  new  each  time,  which  in  an  affair  of  such  delicacy  is 
always  important. 

Paris,  March  22,  1835. 

We  are  for  the  present  very  quiet  here,  and  nothing  is 
further  from  the  intentions  of  the  French  than  to  precipitate 
themselves  into  a  war  with  America.  Not  only  the  press  but 
the  merchants  and  manufacturers  are  entirely  opposed  to  such 
action,  which  is  clearly  manifested  by  the  urgent  petitions  sent 
to  Paris  by  the  principal  manufacturing  towns  urging  the 
payment  of  the  debt.  The  bill  has  been  referred  to  a  com- 
mittee, who  are  to  report  on  the  25th  of  this  month,  and 
there  is  every  prospect  of  the  claims  being  paid.  The  repub- 
lican journals  have  done  all  in  their  power  to  prevent  the 
passage  of  the  bill,  more  from  a  desire  to  attack  Louis  Phi- 
lippe than  from  any  regard  to  the  merits  of  the  case.  A 
very  absurd  idea  is  prevalent  here,  or  is  urged,  whether  real 
or  affected,  that  the  debt  is  principally  owned  by  General 
Jackson  and  Louis  Philippe.  Your  old  friend  M.  Baffos  stated 
this  to  me  this  morning  as  undoubted,  which  I  told  him  was 
ridiculous. 

While  visiting  the  Hospital  of  the  Enfants  Malades  this  morn- 
ing I  had  a  long  talk  with  M.  Baffos,  who  inquired  partic- 
ularly after  your  health  and  the  manner  of  life  you  had  led  the 
last  few  years.  He  is  a  fine-looking  healthy  gentleman,  stout 
and  red-cheeked,  who  seems  to  have  spent  a  happy  life.  When 
I  spoke  of  your  active  career  both  in  and  out  of  the  profession, 
he  observed  that  much  to  his  regret  he  had  not  lately  done  the 
same,  but  had  fallen  into  lazy  habits.  Nevertheless,  I  am  told 
he  keeps  a  critical  eye  on  everything  around  him,  and  as  I  know 
by  experience  is  a  very  early  visitor  at  the  hospitals.  I  asked 
for  your  friend  M.  Hereau.  He  is  not  now  in  Paris,  but  is  a  dis- 
tinguished physician  in  one  of  the  provincial  towns,  enjoying  the 
patronage  of  the  archbishop,  the  judges,  and  probably  the  town- 


208  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEEEN. 

crier.  He  wished  to  know  if  you  had  become  very  stout,  which 
appears  to  be  the  lot  of  most  of  the  French  physicians,  espe- 
cially of  those  who  are  not  in  very  active  practice.  M.  Baffos 
has  much  vivacity  and  intelligence,  and  is  full  of  reminiscences 
of  the  eventful  period  through  which  he  has  passed  since  he 
last  saw  you.  I  promised  to  call  on  him  before  leaving,  and  he 
intends  writing  to  you. 

Roux,  whom  I  have  been  attending  at  La  Charite,  took  his 
leave  of  that  hospital  a  few  days  since,  and  goes  to  the  Hotel 
Dieu  to  replace  Dupuytren.  He  seemed  much  affected  at  leav- 
ing the  place  where  he  had  so  long  practised  and  performed  so 
many  brilliant  operations.  He  is  replaced  by  Velpeau,  who 
moves  quietly  on  and  is  probably  destined  for  the  top  of  the 
ladder.1  His  introductory  lecture,  in  which  he  laid  down  the 
principles  that  would  guide  him  in  his  new  position,  was  the  most 
replete  with  the  true  scientific  and  professional  spirit  that  I 
have  yet  met  with  abroad  in  this  connection.  Therapeutics  he 
thought,  as  does  Louis,  also,  in  need  of  complete  renovation. 
He  dwelt  with  earnestness  on  the  necessity  of  studying  the 
anatomical  relations  of  surgical  diseases,  which  have  been  too 
much  neglected.  If  he  continues  as  he  has  begun,  Velpeau  will 
undoubtedly  be  the  most  useful  instructor  for  students  to  be 
found  here.  I  have  followed  him  somewhat  in  his  practice,  and 
he  takes  every  opportunity  to  point  out  and  discuss  the  dis- 
eases which  come  under  his  notice  at  the  bedside  and  to  impress 
his  ideas  on  his  pupils.  Some  reform  is  undoubtedly  needed  in 
the  vague  and  unsatisfactory  way  in  which  the  visits  of  surgeons 
are  ordinarily  made.  .  .  . 

It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  hear  that  you  have  got  so  hap- 
pily through  with  your  lectures.  I  entertain  hopes  that  you 
will  be  induced  to  follow  the  example  of  Dr.  Mott  and  make  a 
tour  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  where  you  will  not  only  en- 
joy the  leisure  you  have  so  well  earned,  but  many  delightful 

1  The  sagacity  of  this  remark  was  justified  by  the  subsequent  career  of  Velpeau, 
who  died  only  five  days  before  the  writer  thereof.  The  lustre  of  his  final  triumph 
left  little  to  be  desired.  In  an  obituary  notice  which  appeared  shortly  after  his 
decease  at  the  age  of  seventy-two  we  read  :  "  The  name  of  Velpeau  shone  forth 
during  the  last  twenty  years  with  unrivalled  splendor,  embodying,  so  to  say,  the 
fame  and  glory  of  modern  French  surgery.  Since  the  days  of  Dupuytren  never 
had  the  reputation  of  another  French  surgeon  extended  so  far  and  wide,  and  the 
name  of  the  illustrious  professor  of  La  Charite  was  known  and  honored  wherever 
it  was  heard."  —  The  Lancet,  Aug.  31,  1867. 


LETTER   FROM   DR.   J.    C.    WARREN.  209 

reminiscences.    The  undertaking  is  by  no  means  so  difficult  as 
would  be  imagined,  but  I  will  leave  this  subject  till  my  return. 

Paris,  April  5. 

I  shall  sail  from  Liverpool  on  the  8th  of  May,  and  trust  to  be 
in  New  York  by  the  1st  of  June  if  my  fates  remain  propitious. 

Shortly  before  Dr.  Warren  left  Paris  his  ever  solicitous 
father  wrote  him  as  follows :  — 

My  hope  is  that  you  will  be  here  by  the  end  of  May,  or  as 
early  in  the  season  as  is  consistent  with  the  safe  passage  of  the 
Atlantic  and  the  termination  of  your  studies.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary for  me  to  remind  you  that  our  people  love  simplicity  of 
manners  and  dress.  The  first  thing  on  getting  home  is  to  ac- 
quire the  confidence  of  the  profession  by  kindness  to  the  younger 
part  and  deference  to  the  elder,  and  to  show  a  disposition  to 
allow  your  acquirements  to  be  drawn  out  rather  than  to  display 
them.  Above  all,  do  not  neglect  a  respect  for  religion  and  its 
services. 

While  on  the  one  hand  I  would  not  have  you  spend  any  time 
in  London  unnecessarily,  on  the  other  I  wish  you  would  obtain 
the  best  conveyance  home,  and,  if  possible,  in  a  vessel  which 
does  not  make  you  pay  for  wine  whether  you  have  it  or  not. 
My  earnest  wish  is  that  on  the  passage  you  will  wholly  abstain 
from  wine  and  stimulants,  which  are  particularly  pernicious  at 
sea ;  also  that  you  will  take  your  food  regularly,  so  as  to  keep 
yourself  in  good  order.  I  wish  you  also  to  lay  out  a  plan  of 
methodical  exercise  on  board  ship,  and  to  pass  a  certain  portion 
of  the  day  in  arranging  your  notes  and  reviving  your  recollec- 
tions of  what  you  have  acquired.  It  will  be  a  good  plan  to 
devote  some  of  your  time  to  the  study  of  the  languages  and  to 
natural  philosophy.  You  can  read  the  Greek  or  Latin  Testa- 
ment daily.  Weiss  advertises  a  dynometer  for  lithotrity.  Is  it 
worth  having  ?  I  forgot  to  say  that  I  put  in  some  little  tem- 
perance books,  the  productions  of  L.  M.  Sargent.  You  can 
give  them  away  in  London,  or  keep  them  for  the  ship's  crew. 

May  the  Almighty  bless  and  protect  you  by  land  and  by  sea 
and  restore  you  to  us  in  health,  is  the  prayer  of 

Your  affectionate  father, 

J.  C.  Warren. 
14 


210  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

Thus  fortified,  advised,  and  encouraged,  Dr.  Warren 
quitted  Paris  for  London  on  his  way  home.  As  may  well 
be  inferred,  his  departure  was  felt  to  be  a  subject  for 
the  deepest  regret  by  those  young  members  of  his  own 
profession  with  whom  he  had  pursued  his  studies  for  so 
long  a  period  and  to  whom  he  had  endeared  himself  by 
the  display  of  so  many  of  the  most  attractive  qualities. 
Numerous  were  the  tokens  of  their  regard  bestowed  upon 
him,  and  fervent  their  expressions  of  friendship  and  long- 
ing for  his  future  prosperity.  On  the  eve  of  his  depar- 
ture a  few  of  his  intimate  associates  gave  him  a  dinner  at 
the  Trois  Freres,  and  sought  to  mitigate  their  sorrow  and 
his  own  by  the  choicest  treasures  of  its  famous  cuisine. 
In  spite  of  the  shadow  of  coming  separation  and  the  sun- 
dering of  cherished  ties,  the  occasion  was  marked  by 
much  festivity,  and  the  gloom  of  the  future  was  bright- 
ened for  the  moment  by  the  glamour  of  auld  lang  syne, 
while  some  were  cheered  by  the  hope  of  an  almost  cer- 
tain reunion  on  the  other  side  of  the  ocean  in  their  own 
country. 

After  a  short  stay  in  London  that  he  might  take  leave 
of  the  numerous  friends,  professional  and  other,  who  had 
shown  him  such  generous  hospitality,  he  went  to  Liverpool 
early  in  May  and  thence  sailed  in  the  packet  ship  "  Bri- 
tannia "  for  New  York,  which  he  reached  on  Sunday,  the 
7th  of  June,  after  a  passage  of  twenty-seven  days.  He 
lost  no  time  in  starting  for  Boston ;  and  never  did  son  or 
brother  receive  a  more  affectionate,  a  more  joyous,  or 
a  more  richly  deserved  welcome.1 

1  On  this  voyage  Dr.  Warren  was  one  of  sixteen  passengers,  all  English  or  Scotch 
but  himself.  Among  them  was  Richard  Cobden,  on  his  way  to  our  country  to  see 
if,  happily,  we  might  confirm  his  belief,  then  just  published,  that  "the  government 
of  the  United  States  was  at  this  moment  the  best  in  the  world,"  and  that  its  citizens 
were  "  the  best  people,  individually  and  nationally." 


CHAPTER   XII. 

PROFESSIONAL  OUTLOOK.  —  THE  BOSTON  OF  1835.  —  AD- 
VENT IN  SOCIETY.  —  PERSONAL  TRAITS.  —  TAKES  CHARGE 
OF  HIS  FATHER'S  PRACTICE.  —  SURGICAL  CONDITIONS 
AT   THIS   PERIOD. 

And  now  began  that  professional  career  which  for 
thirty-two  years  was  to  absorb  the  full  measure  of  Dr. 
Warren's  talents  and  test  to  the  last  degree  his  endurance, 
both  physical  and  mental.  To  this  main  object  of  his  life 
he  was  always  eminently  true,  nor  did  it  ever  fail  to  en- 
gross the  best  of  his  powers,  though  the  strain  upon  his 
health  was  often  alarming  and  greatly  exhausted  his  ner- 
vous system.  Calmly  ignoring  every  impediment  and 
seeming  to  gain  fresh  vigor  even  from  weakness,  he 
pressed  on  with  unfaltering  reliance  towards  that  ample 
achievement  which  crowned  the  end  of  his  life,  and  into 
which  it  slowly  and  surely  broadened  from  the  beginning. 
The  position  in  which  he  found  himself  on  his  return 
from  Europe  was  peculiar,  and  wholly  different  from  that 
of  the  young  practitioners  about  him.  It  was  regarded 
by  most  as  an  especially  enviable  one,  and  there  were  few 
that  failed  to  think  him  far  more  fortunate  than  the  great 
majority  of  his  associates.  It  certainly  was  favorable  in 
many  respects,  and  well  adapted  to  bring  to  the  surface 
all  his  talents  and  all  the  manliness  of  his  nature,  though 
sundry  drawbacks  were  not  wanting,  and  his  patience  and 
self-control  were  often  sorely  tried  to  an  extent  that  only 
the  more  thoughtful  could  appreciate.  Even  the  reflected 
light  of  his  father's  fame  was  not  entirely  propitious,  while 
the  prestige  of  his  foreign  studies  and  his  social  standing 


212  JONATHAN    MASON"   WAEEEN. 

in  the  centre  of  a  wide  circle  of  relatives  and  friends, 
which  on  the  one  hand  made  him  unusually  conspicuous 
and  so  far  aided  his  progress,  on  the  other  drew  searching 
attention  to  the  scope  of  his  faculties  and  acquirements, 
and  exposed  him  to  a  criticism  which  was  not  slow  to 
manifest  itself  when  occasion  offered.  As  might  have  been 
expected,  in  certain  quarters  his  superior  advantages  were 
viewed  with  jealousy,  and  acted  upon  his  competitors  as  a 
kind  of  challenge  to  offset  or  surpass  them. 

Even  the  assistance  which  his  father  with  an  eager 
longing  for  his  success  very  naturally  sought  to  give  him 
was  in  some  measure  a  hindrance,  as  it  exposed  him  to 
the  charge  of  promotion  at  the  expense  of  others  not  less 
deserving  than  himself.     Hence  arose  still  further  rancor 
and  carping  remarks,  which  little  attempt  was  made  to 
conceal,  all  the  more  that  his  father's  demeanor  was  gen- 
erally hard  and  dictatorial,  and  the  sharp  angles  of  the 
fortUer  in  re  were  but  scantily  draped  with  the  suaviter  in 
modo.     To  tone  down  the  prevailing  antipathy  so  often 
caused  by  the  bearing  of  this  stern  and  energetic  pioneer, 
and  to  replace  it  by  a  feeling  of  cordial  interest  and  good- 
will, was  of  itself  a  work  of  no  little  difficulty  to  the  young 
physician ;  but  it  was  done,  and  that  thoroughly,  though 
it  required  all  his  tact  and  discernment,  all  that  sweet- 
ness of  disposition  and  gentlemanly  discipline  for  which 
he  was  so  noted,  to  overcome  an  unfriendliness  that  might 
have  grown  into  a  serious  detriment  to  his  prospects.    The 
triumph  achieved  over  this  and  other  obstacles  that  for  a 
time  shadowed  his  path  was  the  natural  result  of  qualities 
especially  his  own, ; —  of  a  sanguine  penetration  that  en- 
abled him  to  forecast  the  future  and  a  hopefulness  that 
saw  no  cloud  without  a  gleam  of  sunshine,  however  faint ; 
of  a  genial  kindness  of  temper,  a  good-humored  manly 
force,  and  an  entire  absence  of  every  form  of  jealousy  or 
meanness;  of  an  enthusiasm  that  proved  stanch  to  the 
end  and  an  ambition  that  fully  equalled  it ;  of  a  profes- 


PROFESSIONAL    DEVOTION".  213 

sional  skill  and  aptitude  that  were  obvious  to  all;  of  a 
solidity  of  character  based  on  well-tried  foundations ;  of  a 
soundness  of  judgment  rarely  apparent  at  such  an  age, 
and  which  controlled  from  afar  the  complex  elements  of 
success ;  of  a  fixed  resolve  to  regard  the  world  as  a  place 
of  brightness,  of  free  expansion,  of  irresistible  action,  —  of 
action,  moreover,  which  should  cause  him  neither  fear 
nor  shame. 

Dr.  Warren  with  characteristic  energy  gave  himself 
up  at  once  to  the  large  practice  which  his  father's  posi- 
tion and  influence  opened  to  him,  and  spared  no  pains  to 
master  the  numberless  details  of  its  daily  routine  in  the 
direction  of  both  medicine  and  surgery.  His  foreign  ac- 
quirements naturally  proved  of  great  value  and  of  imme- 
diate use.  To  his  father  they  were  especially  welcome ; 
and  the  young  doctor  was  thus  able  to  make  a  substantial 
return  for  the  experience  derived  from  his  elder,  —  experi- 
ence which  the  young  of  every  profession  ordinarily  gain 
with  such  difficulty.  His  father  greatly  needed  his  assist- 
ance, as  his  labors  had  become  almost  unceasing  and  now 
had  begun  to  make  serious  inroads  upon  his  strength. 
Everything  tended  to  call  forth  his  ablest  efforts,  —  filial 
affection,  his  father's  example,  his  own  interest,  not  to 
mention  the  further  stimulus  that  was  excited  by  the  fact 
that  he  was  entering  into  a  lively  competition  with  other 
rising  men,  eager,  talented,  ambitious  like  himself,  and 
already  well  on  their  way  towards  that  distinction  which 
afterwards  made  them  the  bright  particular  stars  of  their 
profession.  He  did  not  disappoint  the  hopes  that  he  had 
created  in  those  most  concerned  for  his  welfare.  While 
his  abilities  enabled  him  to  hold  his  own  and  even  to 
better  expectation,  his  kindly  temperament  and  persua- 
sive manner  won  him  hosts  of  admirers,  whose  increasing 
numbers  bore  witness  to  that  confidence  and  esteem 
which,  once  bestowed,  were  never  withdrawn.  Even  at 
this  critical  period  he  seems  not  to  have  had  an  enemy, 


214  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

and  but  a  short  time  was  needed  to  make  him  the  beloved 
friend  as  well  as  physician  of  many  who  had  discovered 
that  his  amiable  qualities  of  heart  were  fully  equalled  by 
the  dawning  signs  of  professional  ability.  Such  was  his 
steady  advance  that  gradually  he  came  to  number  among 
his  patients  nearly  every  family  of  prominence  in  the  city. 
In  the  voluminous  journals  and  account-books  he  left  be- 
hind him  their  names  may  still  be  read ;  and  a  lively  inter- 
est attaches  to  them  as  honorable  souvenirs  of  a  long 
career,  and  as  evidences  of  the  esteem  and  respect  which 
was  felt  for  him  who  recorded  them  by  all  the  most  noted 
persons  in  social  or  professional  circles. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  observe  that  not  only  the  as- 
pects of  medical  and  surgical  practice  at  the  beginning 
of  Dr.  Warren's  course,  but  all  the  conditions  of  both 
public  and  private  conduct,  varied  widely  from  those  to 
which  the  young  aspirant  in  Boston  is  now  accustomed. 
The  changes  since  his  clay,  mostly  for  the  better,  have 
been  numerous  and  complete,  —  so  numerous  that  they 
are  realized  only  when  one  is  suddenly  brought  face  to 
face  with  them  by  means  of  the  tongue  or  the  pen  of 
keen  observers ;  so  complete  that  they  can  be  appreciated 
only  by  those  who  have  enjoyed  peculiar  facilities  for 
studying  the  manners  and  customs  of  a  half-century  ago 
and  a  decided  aptitude  for  contrasting  the  limitations 
that  bounded  their  youth  with  the  wide  area  of  expansion 
open  to  the  young  of  this  time.  Yet  even  in  that  day 
no  man  of  talent,  least  of  all  the  subject  of  this  memoir, 
had  reason  to  complain  of  his  restricted  surroundings. 
To  him  the  field  was  a  rich  one,  and  he  saw  plainly 
enough  that  it  would  well  repay  every  possible  effort  for 
its  cultivation  and  enlargement. 

In  1835  Boston  had  enjoyed  its  chartered  rights  as  a 
city  for  only  thirteen  years,  and  its  population  numbered 
but  little  over  sixty-five  thousand.  Taken  as  a  whole  its 
citizens  held  a  rank  much  above  the  average  for  morality 


THE   BOSTONTANS.  215 

and  intelligence,  for  thrift,  energy,  and  public  spirit. 
They  were  by  no  means  unconscious  of  this  fact;  and  the 
stranger  from  afar  was  not  likely  to  remain  long  in  igno- 
rance thereof,  as  they  did  not  hesitate  to  assume  this  as 
an  obvious  truth  too  generally  admitted  to  allow  of  any 
discussion.  In  this  respect  they  had  been  richly  endowed 
by  their  fathers,  who  had  never  been  accustomed  to 
reckon  humility  among  the  cardinal  virtues,  until  now 
the  self-satisfaction  of  their  descendants  was  as  prominent 
as  their  own  full-bottomed  wigs  had  been,  and  sat  as  easily 
upon  them.1  As  the  people  were  for  the  most  part  well 
educated  and  read  much,  there  was  no  subject  of  popular 
concern  on  which  they  failed  to  have  views  of  their  own 
or  thought  themselves  incompetent  to  offer  an  opinion. 
As  they  had  long  been  broadly  patriotic,  they  easily  iden- 
tified themselves  with  the  well-being  of  the  whole  nation. 
Deeply  impressed  by  their  creditable  past,  they  liberally 
discounted  in  their  own  behalf  a  future  of  which  they 
were  so  constituted  as  to  ignore  any  bounds,  while  they 
nourished  the  laurels  already  acquired  with  a  vigor  that 
never  ceased.  Their  grand  ideas  and  lofty  aims  led  them 
to  deem  nothing  beneath  their  notice  in  the  whole  domain 
of  human  knowledge ;  and  if  in  their  earnest  striving 
they  did  not  succeed  in  reaching  what  they  sought,  it  was 
from  no  lack  of  energy  that  it  passed  beyond  their  reach, 
and  from  no  lack  of  ingenious  device  or  originality  of 
measures.  Drawn  more  closely  together  by  their  con- 
tracted territory  and  the  smallness  of  their  numbers,  they 
displayed  a  consistent  unity  of  purpose  which  added 
greatly  to  their  strength,  while  from  the  same  features 
arose  a  sincerer  interest  in  the  well-being  of  the  com- 
munity  and   a   more   fruitful   recognition    of  individual 

1  Dr.  Joseph  Green  Cogswell  struck  the  key-note  of  the  general  estimate  of 
Boston  when  he  wrote,  under  date  of  March  8,  1821 :  "  Boston  is  not  everything  I 
wish  it  to  be,  but  it  is  really  the  best  place  among  the  great  places  in  our  land  ;  and 
if  they  would  but  learn  a  little  modesty  there,  and  not  praise  themselves  quite  so 
highly,  I  should  like  them  still  better." 


216  JONATHAN"   MASON"   WAKREN". 

merit  and  capacity  than  is  often  encountered  in  such  a 
society.  Though  the  Bostonians  of  that  period  did  not 
tend  to  fall  away  from  the  great  principles  that  had 
descended  to  them,  these  found  new  forms  of  expression ; 
and  vigorous  and  independent  thought  was  already  dis- 
playing itself  through  frequent  outlets  and  with  results 
which,  though  doubtless  the  revival  of  ancestral  fires 
that  had  always  continued  to  smoulder,  had  been  alto- 
gether unknown  to  their  predecessors.  Naturally  con- 
servative, they  were  not  at  all  averse  to  becoming 
properly  and  correctly  liberal,  or  even  radical,  when  they 
were  once  persuaded  that  this  was  really  in  the  way  of 
progress.  In  this  there  were  not  a  few  who  were  already 
showing  their  readiness  to  go  a  great  distance,  even  to  a 
complete  isolation  from  former  beliefs,  though  the  ma- 
jority of  the  free-thinking  citizens  in  such  matters  recalled 
the  configuration  of  their  town,  which,  though  nearly  an 
island,  was  not  quite  cut  off  from  the  main-land.  As  it 
was,  there  was  everywhere  prevalent  a  freedom  of  thought 
which  expanded  into  wider  aims  and  more  eccentric 
shapes  of  progress,  till,  in  spite  of  their  orthodox  antece- 
dents, the  fruits  that  resulted  therefrom,  though  goodly 
in  their  way,  would  hardly  have  been  acknowledged  by 
the  Pilgrims  as  the  legitimate  offspring  of  the  seed  they 
had  so  faithfully  and  persistently  sown. 

From  that  which  has  been  recorded  on  a  former  page 
concerning  Dr.  Warren's  manners,  dress,  and  appearance 
at  the  time  of  his  foreign  studies  it  is  easy  to  infer  that 
his  advent  in  Boston  was  attended  with  some  little  excite- 
ment, both  in  his  profession  and  in  society.  Apart  from 
all  other  considerations,  the  mere  fact  of  his  long  absence 
in  Europe  caused  a  degree  of  importance  to  be  attached 
to  him,  as  in  those  days  few  of  our  countrymen  travelled 
abroad  compared  with  the  great  numbers  that  now  cross 
the  Atlantic,  and  this  had  been  largely  increased  by  the 
reports  of  his  progress  that  had  been  brought  home  by 


APPEAKANCE   IN   SOCIETY.  217 

friends  and  relatives  who  had  seen  him  in  Paris  from  time 
to  time.  The  final  result,  it  is  safe  to  say,  bettered  ex- 
pectation ;  and  if  much  had  been  looked  for,  much  was 
visible  even  to  the  least  discerning  eye.  A  name  for 
professional  promise,  a  handsome  person,  distingue  man- 
ners and  a  winning  address,  joined  to  elegance  of  cos- 
tume and  the  piquant  guise  of  novelty,  would  have  done 
much  for  any  young  man  in  any  community,  and  for  him 
they  drew  quick  audience  and  attention.  Slender  and 
almost  frail  in  form,  his  face  yet  wore  the  rudely  glow  of 
health  and  the  lineaments  of  manly  beauty.  Erect  and 
dignified  in  his  bearing,  his  deportment  revealed  a  self- 
contained  and  well-poised  self-respect,  as  of  one  conscious 
of  his  position  and  of  a  gentlemanly  feeling  of  indepen- 
dence. His  eyes,  bright,  sympathetic,  expressive  of  a 
certain  intellectual  keenness,  seemed  the  very  windows 
of  his  soul,  and  in  their  depths  one  appeared  to  detect 
the  genuine  spirit  of  sincerity.  As  he  talked  with  genial 
bonhomie  and  a  nice  vein  of  humor,  his  hands,  white, 
slender,  and  well  proportioned,  kept  up  with  a  rapid 
movement  a  running  accompaniment  that  was  very 
graphic.  His  manners  were  perfect,  and  attracted  uni- 
versal approval.  There  was  nothing  of  self-assertion  in 
his  demeanor,  and  he  showed  a  happy  tact  in  adapting 
himself  to  all  persons  as  they  came  before  him.  To  the 
fair  sex  nothing  could  exceed  his  suave  and  courteous 
deference,  and  the  entire  absence  of  all  assumption. 
This  was  the  natural  temperament  which  actuated  his 
every  word  and  deed,  and  one  sought  in  vain  the  advent 
of  anything  in  the  least  finical  or  artificial.  His  dress,  of 
course,  had  no  small  share  in  the  impression  he  made  at 
this  time ;  and  there  was  not  one  of  the  various  forms  of 
elaborate  taste  and  fashion  which  it  presented  that  did 
not  secure  its  share  of  observation  and  assist  to  round 
out  the  full  understanding  of  his  character.  It  power- 
fully appealed  to  the  female  mind,  which  is  often  affected, 


218  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

perhaps  unwittingly,  by  many  collateral  influences,  even 
in  so  important  a  matter  as  the  choice  of  a  physician; 
though,  so  far  as  the  young  doctor  himself  was  concerned, 
nothing  could  have  been  further  from  his  thought  than 
the  use  of  any  insidious  aids  to  success.  "  Who  is  that 
fascinating  young  man  in  the  shining  boots  ?  Pray  intro- 
duce him,"  was  the  exclamation  of  a  Belinda  of  that  day 
at  the  first  party  at  which  Dr.  Warren  made  his  appear- 
ance after  his  return  to  Boston.  Naturally,  the  fair  one 
indicated  him  through  the  most  prominent  feature  of  his 
garb,  which  happened  to  be  a  pair  of  those  enamelled 
boots,  now  so  common,  but  then  the  last  Parisian  novelty. 

Under  every  aspect  Dr.  Warren  was  a  pronounced 
success  with  the  ladies  from  the  outstart.  He  was  essen- 
tially a  ladies'  man.  He  was  thoroughly  sympathetic 
with  the  sex.  He  was  a  born  admirer  of  beauty,  and  it 
was  an  instinct  with  him  to  tender  promptly  his  loyal 
allegiance  and  respect.  Chivalrous  to  the  last  degree,  his 
homage  led  him  to  return  in  kind  whatever  interest  or 
approval  he  might  have  excited. 

In  society  Dr.  Warren's  many  pleasing  qualities  assured 
him  a  position  that  others  less  liberally  endowed  often 
sigh  in  vain  to  achieve.  A  natural  amiability  of  char- 
acter and  a  kindly  temperament  made  him  peculiarly 
popular  with  his  own  sex,  and  so  did  his  careful  avoidance 
of  all  claims  on  his  own  behalf  or  irritating  self-assertion. 
Considerate  in  the  extreme  of  the  feelings  of  others,  he 
could  not  bear  to  give  offence,  and  rather  than  do  this,  or 
even  to  run  the  risk  thereof,  he  would  submit  to  much 
from  those  less  delicate  than  himself.  The  noble  sense 
of  honor  with  which  his  heart  was  ingrained  led  him 
often  to  ignore  an  apparent  slight,  and  this  not  from  lack 
of  spirit,  but  because  he  thought  it  more  manly  to  con- 
trol his  feelings  and  was  reluctant  to  impute  intentional 
discourtesy  to  any  one.  At  times  this  generous  forbear- 
ance caused  him  absolute  suffering,  especially  when  harsh 


PERSONAL    TRAITS.  219 

criticism  was  passed  upon  his  father,  as  was  often  the 
case.  Even  to  this  he  would  silently  submit  rather  than 
express  the  resentment  which  sorely  rankled  at  his  heart. 
Gifted  with  a  ready  and  instinctive  tact,  he  never  lost  an 
opportunity  to  ingratiate  himself  with  those  about  him. 
The  young  he  was  always  quick  to  help ;  to  the  poor  and 
humble  he  displayed  a  gracious  regard ;  to  the  uninter- 
esting he  proffered  attentions  quickened  by  good-will  and 
free  from  any  sense  of  patronage.  Thus  richly  favored, 
it  is  not  strange  that  he  won  golden  opinions  from  all 
sorts  of  people,  toning  down  many  a  jealousy,  professional 
or  other ;  dispersing,  or  at  least  brightening,  many  a  ris- 
ing cloud ;  and  frequently  diverting  impending  rivalry 
till  finally  it  developed  into  a  broad  and  swelling  stream 
©f  friendship.  In  all  his  dealings,  one  should  not  omit  to 
say,  he  was  greatly  aided  by  an  ever  present  sense  of 
humor,  the  rich  superfluity  of  his  mental  strength,  and 
by  a  faculty  for  appreciating  the  droll  aspect  of  things, 
from  which  came  also  large  solace  for  his  cares,  much 
turning  of  darkness  into  light,  and  frequent  dissolving  of 
sorrow  in  a  hearty  laugh.  At  this  age  he  still  possessed 
the  temperament  of  a  boy,  and  found  it  a  blessing.  He 
"  doffed  the  world  aside  and  bid  it  pass,"  not  as  lightly 
regarding  the  duties  of  his  profession,  but  because  he  had 
been  favored  with  a  cheerful  capacity  for  distilling  the 
last  drop  of  pleasure  from  responsibilities  that  would  have 
borne  heavily  upon  a  less  sanguine  and  happy  nature. 

At  the  end  of  nearly  two  years  from  Dr.  Warren's  re- 
turn his  progress  had  been  so  great  that  his  father  thought 
him  amply  qualified  to  take  his  place  while  he  sought  by 
a  long  tour  abroad  the  rest  he  so  much  needed.  On  the 
5th  of  June,  1837,  he  left  Boston  "  with  some  trouble  of 
mind  on  account  of  Mason's  solitary  and  responsible  situa- 
tion," as  his  journal  records.  During  his  long  absence 
the  father  never  ceased  to  feel  the  pressure  of  this  anx- 
iety on  his  son's  account,  and  was  ever  on  the  alert  to 


220  JONATHAN   MASON    WAREEN. 

advise  and  encourage  him.  His  frequent  letters  showed 
the  depth  and  earnestness  of  this  feeling.  Since  the  lives 
of  these  two  were  so  closely  identified  —  especially  at  this 
period  —  as  to  make  them  almost  one  in  unity  of  purpose, 
lofty  aims,  and  professional  devotion,  little  or  no  apology 
need  here  be  offered  for  the  insertion  of  a  letter  from 
Dr.  Warren  to  his  son  written  shortly  before  he  sailed 
from  New  York.  It  goes  far  to  illustrate  the  character 
of  each. 

New  York,  June  7,  1837. 

My  dear  Mason,  —  Although  I  wrote  yesterday  I  propose 
to  give  you  a  word  more,  before  I  embark,  on  3-our  peculiar 
situation.  I  recollect  to  have  heard  it  remarked  of  some  one 
as  a  great  proof  of  talent  that  he  exactly  understood  his  own 
position  in  the  world.  Few  men  have  this  knowledge,  though 
all  believe  they  have  it.  A  correct  knowledge  of  your  rela- 
tions to  those  around  you  will  be  the  foundation  of  your  suc- 
cess ;  a  want  of  this  might  involve  a  failure.  For  a  physician 
of  your  age  you  have  made  a  considerable  advance  in  practical 
standing.  To  retain  and  improve  this  requires  greater  efforts 
than  ordinary. 

An  exact  and  methodical  employment  of  your  time.  A  cer- 
tain period  of  it  to  be  devoted  to  reading,  another  to  writing, 
and  another  to  daily  dissection.  I  would  not  allow  myself  much 
light  reading.  It  is  not  only  a  loss  of  valuable  time,  but  it 
weakeus  our  power  of  reflection.  The  periods  of  time  not 
passed  in  the  occupations  mentioned  should  be  devoted  to  pa- 
tients, or  to  friends  whose  society  is  profitable  and  useful.  Pass 
as  much  time  with  your  patients  as  you  can  when  they  are  very 
ill.  This  is  the  strongest  foundation  for  affection  and  confi- 
dence. The  most  successful  practitioners  have  risen  on  this 
habit.     When   you  require  relaxation  go  into  the  society   of 

friends  who  will  promote  your  interest.     Mr.  A ,  Mr.  W , 

the  G s,  P s,  and  others  may  be  rendered  immensely 

valuable  ;  while,  if  neglected,  some  other  may  insinuate  himself 
between  you  and  them.  Merit  and  skill  are  necessary,  but  they 
must  be  aided  by  kind  attentions,  which  show  that  you  are 
interested  in  their  happiness.  Above  all,  our  relations  may  be 
made  our  truest  friends.     Here  I  wish  to  caution  }rou  against 


ESSENTIAL    SUGGESTION'S.  221 

any  irritation  from  apparent  want  of  confidence  on  the  part  of 
patients.  This  is  one  of  the  regular  trials  of  a  young  practi- 
tioner, —  one  that  he  must  expect  to  experience  even  from  the 
lower  classes,  still  more  from  the  higher.  Such  an  expression, 
however  it  may  operate  on  the  feelings,  must  not  be  allowed  to 
influence  the  external  appearance  or  conduct ;  for  the  expression 
of  such  irritation  is  a  fair  proof  that  the  want  of  confidence  is 
well  founded,  since  it  shows  a  want  of  self-command. 

Boston  requires  a  perfectly  educated  surgeon.  You  have  as 
good  or  better  groundwork  for  the  formation  of  one  than  per- 
haps any  other  person,  and  the  advantages  for  youv  forming  the 
right  kind  of  man  are  uncommon ;  but  this  formation  must  be 
your  own  work,  —  the  result  of  regular  study  of  books,  diseases, 
and  dead  bodies,  —  and  to  the  latter  there  is  no  end. 

You  have  a  physical  defect  which  may  be  overcome.  It  is 
partly  the  result  of  want  of  habit,  but  principally,  I  believe, 
arises  from  the  too  free  use  of  stimulants.  With  the  induce- 
ments which  you  have  to  excel  it  would  certainly  be  worth  a  great 
effort  to  do  all  in  your  power  to  attain  the  faculties  of  a  perfect 
operator.  Great  care  in  food,  little  or  no  wine,  coffee  and  tea 
never  strong,  are  privations  which  will  improve  your  hand  and 
your  health. 

Such  are  a  few  of  the  suggestions  which  occur  to  me  as  calcu- 
lated to  raise  you  to  eminence.  Perhaps  you  will  think  them 
too  many ;  but  I  have  no  doubt  you  will  judge  differently  here- 
after, if  you  think  so  now.  At  least  you  will  perceive  that  I 
can  have  nothing  in  view  but  your  interest  and  the  public 
utility. 

At  the  time  of  his  departure  for  Europe  Dr.  "Warren 
left  his  extensive  practice,  so  far  as  he  could,  entirely 
to  his  son,  and  issued  a  circular  to  his  patients  inform- 
ing them  of  his  plans  and  of  his  wishes  in  this  respect. 
Anxious  as  he  was  for  Mason's  interests,  he  would  not 
have  done  this  had  he  not  been  entirely  and  conscien- 
tiously satisfied  as  to  his  fitness  for  this  position  and  his 
ability  to  meet  all  demands  upon  him.  The  result  fully 
justified  his  confidence.  The  young  surgeon  had  already 
performed  the  first  successful  operation  for  the  restora- 


222  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

tion  of  the  human  nose  that  had  then  been  completed  on 
this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  and  this  with  a  display  of  skill, 
nerve,  and  judgment  that  gave  brilliant  promise  for  the 
future,  and  showed  how  well  he  had  spent  his  time  in 
Europe  under  Dupuytren,  Cooper,  and  other  chiefs  of  the 
great  art.  The  position  thus  attained  he  was  competent 
to  keep  against  all  comers ;  and  no  sooner  had  his  father 
departed  than  he  proceeded  to  fortify  and  increase  it  by 
numerous  other  works  of  similar  difficulty,  which  proved 
that  he  had  by  no  means  belittled  the  inherited  fame  and 
ability  bequeathed  him  by  his  predecessors.  The  quali- 
ties he  revealed  were  assuredly  of  no  mean  sort.  Within 
five  years  from  the  beginning  of  Dr.  Warren's  profes- 
sional career,  he  had  already  devised  a  new  and  effective 
method  for  remedying  the  deformity  known  as  "  fissure 
of  hard  and  soft  palate,"  or  staphyloraphy,  as  it  is  com- 
monly called  by  surgeons.  This  operation,  though  not 
dangerous,  is  one  of  peculiar  difficulty,  delicacy,  and  often 
of  embarrassment.  When  successful,  there  are  few  opera- 
tions which  are  attended  with  more  gratifying  results  to 
the  patient  or  are  more  satisfactory  to  the  performer.  In 
the  "  New  England  Quarterly  Journal  of  Medicine  and 
Surgery"  for  April,  1843,  Dr.  Warren  gave  a  minute  de- 
scription of  his  mode  of  procedure,  and  stated  that  up  to 
that  time  he  had  had  thirteen  cases,  of  which  all  but  one 
had  been  followed  by  a  complete  cure.  There  is  not 
space  in  this  memoir  to  present  any  further  details  in  re- 
gard to  this  subject,  but  the  whole  matter  is  fully  set  forth 
in  Dr.  Warren's  "  Surgical  Observations." 1 

1  It  is  gratifying  to-know  that  Dr.  Warren's  claims  to  the  discovery  of  this 
method  were  universally  acknowledged  both  at  home  and  abroad.  In  the  "Dublin 
Quarterly  Journal  of  Medical  Science  "  for  November,  1866,  one  reads  :  "  We  hail 
with  pleasure  this  further  contribution  from  the  pen  of  one  who  has  been  for  a 
quarter  of  a  century  the  successful  operator  in  the  New  World  on  cases  of  fissured 
palate.  Mr.  Mason  Warren  was  the  first  man  to  recognize  the  fact  that  fissures  in 
the  hard  palate  were  the  result  rather  of  misplaced  than  deficient  bone,  and  to  ap- 
ply to  their  remedy  the  obvious  method  of  dissecting  off  the  muco-periosteum 
from  either  side  and  uniting  its  edges  at  a  lower  level.     In  short,  he  put  what  may 


SUKGICAL    QUALITIES.  223 

It  has  been  truly  observed  :  — 

"  While  all  agree  that  operations  should  be  avoided  when 
possible,  the  operative  branch  of  surgery  must  be  considered 
as  affording  an  exhibition  of  high  qualities  on  the  part  of  the 
surgeon.  A  profound  knowledge  of  anatomy,  a  thorough  ac- 
quaintance with  surgical  pathology,  a  clear  conception  of  facts 
suddenly  presented,  genius  ready  to  meet  them,  an  indomitable 
courage,  untiring  perseverance,  and,  above  all,  a  perfect  control 
of  the  mental  energies,  are  not  qualities  to  be  lightly  esteemed. 
They  are  in  fact  —  to  compare  small  things  with  great  —  simi- 
lar to  those  required  of  the  commander  of  an  army  in  bloody 
action."  1 

In  addition  to  these  characteristics  Dr.  Warren  revealed 
the  possession  of  that  rarest  of  all  rare  endowments,  a 
good  judgment,  and  in  this  respect  was  a  fine  example 
of  the  aptness  of  a  remark  by  another  light  of  the 
profession  :  — 

"  The  excellence  of  the  practitioner  depends  far  more  upon 
good  judgment  than  great  learning,  and,  other  things  being 
equal,  the  best  practitioner  is  the  man  of  soundest  judgment." 

Under  one  aspect  the  truth  of  these  views  was  then 
more  fully  tested  than  now.  At  that  period  there  were 
no  means  of  producing  insensibility  in  the  patient,  and 
prompt  decision  and  instant  execution  were  imperatively 
demanded.  Life  or  death  waited  upon  the  agile  dexterity 
and  ready  perceptions  of  the  surgeon.  Often  the  situa- 
tion was  such  as  to  unman  the  stoutest  soul  and  strain 
the  nerves  to  the  last  tension  of  endurance.  The  groans, 
the  shrieks,  the  fearful  contortions  of  every  muscle,  the 

be  termed  a  false  ceiling  to  the  mouth.  .  .  .  Langenbeek  had  in  1862  (nineteen 
years  after  Warren's  first  publication)  put  forward  an  identical  process  as  a  new 
invention  of  his  own,  apparently  in  happy  ignorance  of  what  Warren  had  done. 
The  readers  of  this  journal  are  aware  that  Messrs.  L'Estrange  and  Collis  had  also 
planned  a  similar  operation  somewhere  about  1845,  without  a  knowledge  of  Warren's 
work ;  but  they  have  always  yielded  the  palm  to  Warren,  to  whom  the  priority  of 
the  idea  is  justly  due." 

1  Address  of  Dr.  John  C.  Warren  before  the  American  Medical  Association  at 
Cincinnati,  1850. 


224  JONATHAN    MASON    WARREN. 

tears  that  could  not  be  regarded,  the  attempted  writh- 
ings  of  the  bound  and  helpless  victim  in  his  agony,  the 
sweat,  the  clutching  fingers,  the  wild  appeal  to  heaven 
for  succor  or  consolation,  were  all  fitted  to  weaken  the 
strongest  operator,  to  benumb  his  arm,  to  confuse  his 
mental  powers,  and  to  paralyze  a  courage  that  was  above 
all  things  essential  to  success.     Said  Dr.  Mott :  — 

"  The  insensibility  of  the  patient  is  a  great  convenience  to 
the  surgeon.  How  often,  when  operating  in  some  deep  dark 
wound,  along  the  course  of  some  great  vein  with  thin  walls, 
alternately  distended  and  flaccid  with  the  vital  current,  —  how 
often  have  I  dreaded  that  some  unfortunate  struggle  of  the 
patient  would  deviate  the  knife  a  little  from  its  proper  course, 
and  that  I,  who  fain  would  be  the  deliverer,  should  inadvertently 
become  the  executioner,  seeing  my  patient  perish  in  my  hands 
by  the  most  appalling  form  of  death !  Had  he  been  insensible 
I  should  have  felt  no  alarm."  * 

1  Pain  and  Anaesthetics :  an  Essay,  by  Valentine  Mott,  M.D.  1862.  In  the 
ante-ether  days  there  were  not  many  patients  capable  of  the  heroic  pluck  and 
stoicism  displayed  by  Dr.  Ebenezer  Hunt,  who  went  to  Boston  in  1789  to  sub- 
mit himself  to  an  operation  for  the  removal  of  a  cancer  in  his  head.  This  was 
done  by  Dr.  John  Warren.  " '  We  must  bind  his  hands,'  said  the  Doctor.  '  No 
cable  in  Boston  could  hold  them  fast,'  rejoined  Dr.  Hunt ;  and  with  an  effort  that 
astonished  the  physicians  themselves  he  quietly  laid  his  head  on  a  pillow  and  bade 
them  begin.  The  ear  was  first  nearly  cut  off,  though  afterwards  successfully  re- 
placed ;  then  for  thirteen  minutes  the  operation  continued,  and  every  stroke  of  the 
knife,  so  near  the  auditory  nerve,  was  like  the  report  of  a  pistol.  Dr.  Hunt  did  not 
flinch  in  the  least,  though  the  sweat  poured  down  his  cheeks  profusely." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

MARRIAGE  AND  DOMESTIC  ESTABLISHMENT.  —  SECOND  TOUR 

ABROAD. UNCERTAIN   HEALTH. DISCOVERT  OF  ETHER 

AS    AN   ANESTHETIC. FIRST    OPERATION   IN    PUBLIC. 

DISASTER     AT     NORWALK.  —  LAST     HOURS     OF    DANIEL 
WEBSTER. 

With  Dr.  Warren's  capacity  for  drawing  happiness 
from  every  source  and  his  strong  family  attachments, 
with  his  appreciation  of  home  comforts,  his  affectionate 
disposition,  and  his  fondness  for  the  society  of  the  fair 
sex,  it  will  strike  no  one  as  remarkable  that  his  successful 
start  in  life  was  soon  followed  by  the  choice  of  a  com- 
panion for  better  or  worse.  The  engagement  was  not  a 
long  one,  and  on  the  30th  of  April,  1839,  he  was  married 
to  Miss  Anna  Caspar  Crowninshield,  youngest  daughter 
of  the  Hon.  Benjamin  W.  Crowninshield,  of  Boston.  The 
ceremony  was  performed  at  her  father's  house  by  Rev. 
Samuel  K.  Lothrop,  pastor  of  the  church  in  Brattle 
Square,  assisted  by  Rev.  Dr.  Stone,  of  St.  Paul's.  The 
young  couple  started  for  New  York  and  Philadelphia  on 
the  afternoon  of  their  wedding-day.  At  the  end  of  a 
fortnight  they  returned  from  their  tour,  and  Mr.  Crown- 
inshield gave  a  handsome  reception  in  their  honor  at  his 
residence  on  the  corner  of  Beacon  and  Somerset  Streets, 
after  which  they  established  themselves  at  No.  29  Pem- 
berton  Square,  which  they  continued  to  occupy  for  over 
five  years.  This  home  of  the  newly  married  pair  was 
happily  destined  to  be  the  scene  of  much  enjoyment,  such 
as  Dr.  Warren  particularly  favored,  and  of  a  continued 

15 


226  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

display  of  that  affection  which  was  to  smooth  his  future 
path  and  thus  vindicate  the  wisdom  of  his  choice.  Such 
a  union  was  needed  to  round  out  his  being  into  its  appro- 
priate fulness  and  symmetry ;  and  in  the  resulting  love, 
harmony,  and  peaceful  fruition  he  experienced  the  truth 
of  that  saying  of  the  French  which  compares  a  well- 
assorted  marriage  to  a  melodious  duet. 

During  the  next  five  years  after  his  marriage  Dr.  War- 
ren followed  his  profession  with  quiet  assiduity.  On  the 
3d  of  June,  1841,  his  mother  died,  —  a  cutting  sorrow 
which  sank  deep  into  his  affectionate  nature  and  blighted 
for  the  time  even  that  happiness  which  should  have  come 
from  his  increasing  family  and  steadily  growing  reputa- 
tion. In  1841  a  daughter  was  born  to  him,  and  in  1842 
the  son  who  now  survives  him,  though  a  son  born  in  the 
succeeding  year  died  before  the  end  of  his  second  twelve- 
month. Otherwise  there  was  little  to  record  of  his  life  at 
this  period.  In  1844  his  incessant  labors  began  to  tell 
upon  his  health,  and  he  decided  to  cross  the  ocean  again 
in  search  of  the  vigor  he  had  lost.  Starting  alone,  he 
sailed  from  Boston  in  the  "  Acadia  "  on  the  1st  of  April. 
He  remained  a  fortnight  in  London,  visiting  old  friends 
and  gaining  a  few  new  ones  with  the  addition  of  some 
valuable  information.  Thence  proceeding  to  Paris,  he 
went  south  to  Munich,  crossed  the  Stelvio,  returned  by 
another  pass  into  Switzerland,  and  finally  again  made  his 
way  to  the  French  capital,  where  he  spent  a  few  days 
and  then  crossed  the  Channel  to  Liverpool  via  London, 
sailing  for  Boston  on  the  4th  of  August  in  the  same 
vessel  in  which  he  had  left  it.  Eeaching  home  much 
refreshed,  he  gave  himself  at  once  to  the  work  that  en- 
grossed his  energies  for  the  ten  years  which  were  to 
ensue  before  he  again  saw  the  opposite  shores  of  the  At- 
lantic. During  his  absence  the  President  and  Fellows  of 
Harvard  University  had  testified  their  respect  for  his 
name  and  attainments  by  conferring  upon  him  the  hon- 


UNCERTAIN-   HEALTH.  227 

orary  degree  of  Master  of  Arts,  thus  in  a  measure  express- 
ing their  regret  that  fate  had  denied  both  him  and  them 
the  mutual  benefit  and  distinction  which  would  have 
accrued  from  the  completion  of  a  course  so  well  begun. 

Despite  the  saying  of  Dr.  John  C.  Warren,  above 
quoted,  that  his  son  had  really  a  strong  constitution  and 
needed  only  care  and  prudence  to  retain  his  health,  this 
would  seem  to  have  been  not  so  much  the  dictate  of 
his  deliberate  judgment  as  the  heartfelt  longing  that  it 
might  eventually  prove  to  be  correct  notwithstanding 
the  ominous  signs  of  weakness  which  had  already  made 
themselves  apparent,  and  that  at  least  one  among  all  his 
children  might  worthily  succeed  him,  might  invest  him- 
self with  his  own  honors,  and  confirm  the  well-earned 
allegiance  that  had  been  won  by  the  talents,  labors,  and 
sacrifices  of  two  generations.  Unhappily,  though  his  son, 
a  whose  blood  was  fet  from  fathers  of  war-proof,"  did 
preserve  his  great  name  untainted  and  add  not  a  little  to 
his  ancestral  renown,  it  was  in  the  face  of  gradually  and 
steadily  failing  forces  that  he  did  so ;  and  such  was  his 
father's  sorrow  that  he  found  at  last  his  only  refuge  in 
death  itself,  for  even  his  son's  success  was  but  a  slight 
indemnity  for  the  pain  and  suffering  that  so  often  at- 
tended him.  Dr.  Warren  did  not  inherit  a  strong  consti- 
tution, and  his  whole  life  from  the  beginning,  with  the 
exception  perhaps  of  his  first  few  years  abroad,  was  a 
perpetual  and  unflinching  struggle  against  pain  and  de- 
pression, against  mental  irritation  and  bodily  languor 
almost  irresistible.  But  though  often  hidden  by  clouds 
and  the  tempestuous  tossings  of  a  gloomy  sea,  his  star 
was  destined  to  rise  and  shine ;  and  the  opposing  influences 
which  would  have  cast  most  men  deep  into  the  abyss, 
altogether  failed  to  prevent  him  from  mounting  higher 
and  still  higher  towards  the  zenith.  Never  was  more 
resolute  bravery  displayed  than  his ;  never  a  greater  loy- 
alty to  principle.      The  quickening  stimulus  of  a  clear 


228  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

conscience  withheld  him  from  any  faltering,  and  sternly 
forbade  him  to  be  recreant  to  the  trust  reposed  in  him. 
And  such  was  his  life  to  the  end,  —  a  desultory  and  con- 
trasted record ;  at  times  marked  by  deep  furrows  of  suf- 
fering silently  endured,  and  often  followed  by  prostration 
against  which  all  his  strivings  could  hardly  avail,1  and 
then  again  expanding  into  periods  of  healthy  and  well- 
directed  energy,  when  his  days  flowed  on  with  the  glad 
and  steady  impulse  of  a  fountain  suddenly  released  from 
icy  fetters.  Of  a  career  thus  ordered  there  is  not  much 
for  a  biographer  to  record ;  and  little  that  would  stir  the 
pulse  or  excite  the  imagination.  Such  vitality  as  he 
possessed  was  entirely  absorbed  by  the  ever  growing  de- 
mands of  his  profession ;  and  however  much  he  might 
have  longed  for  such  distinction  as  his  tastes  and  talents 
prompted  him  to  attain  in  other  fields,  this  privilege  was 
denied  him,  and  such  leisure  as  he  could  secure  was 
necessarily  devoted  to  much-needed  rest.  It  was  in  do- 
mestic retirement,  surrounded  by  the  quiet  joys  of  home, 
that  he  mostly  sought  and  enjoyed  the  relaxation  so  hon- 
orably earned. 

A  likeness  of  Dr.  Warren  now  preserved  by  Mrs.  "War- 
ren, a  copy  of  which  is  given  with  this  memoir,  serves  to 
show  both  the  perfection  attained  by  the  wonderful  in- 
vention of  Daguerre  within  a  short  period  from  the  first 
vagueness  of  its  reality  and  the  personal  aspect  of  the 
original  at  the  time  of  his  second  voyage  to  Europe.  It 
was  taken  in  Paris  by  a  skilful  artist  named  Sabatier-Blot, 

1  It  is  more  than  probable  that  Dr.  Warren  was  largely  indebted  for  this  phase  of 
his  mental  temperament  to  his  grandfather,  Dr.  John  Warren.  Of  him  it  is  recorded 
that  "he  was  liable,  particularly  in  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  to  a  great  depression 
of  spirits.  He  allowed  those  sources  of  affliction  from  which  none  are  exempt  to 
make  too  deep  an  impression.  Yet  his  disposition  was  naturally  cheerful ;  he  was 
always  fond  of  social  intercourse  and  always  ready  to  join  in  social  amusements. 
And  it  was  seldom  that  the  presence  of  a  friend  could  not  for  a  time  dispel  the 
cloud  that  hung  over  his  spirits.  Still  he  suffered  at  times  enough  to  make 
him  almost  out  of  love  with  life,  and  he  more  than  once  declared  that  he  had 
no  wish  that  his  life  should  be  long."  —  American  Medical  Biography.  By  James 
Thacher,  M.D. 


J.    MASON    WARREN,    M.D. 

FROM    A    DAGUERREOTYPE    TAKEN    IN    PARIS    DURING    1844, 
BY   SABATIER-BLOT. 


FIRST    OPERATION    WITH   ETHER.  229 

and  its  present  state  is  almost  exactly  the  same  as  when 
it  left  his  hands.  The  deep  lines  and  somewhat  haggard 
expression  of  the  face ;  cheeks  that  had  sadly  fallen  away 
from  the  ruddy  contour  of  ten  years  before ;  a  forehead 
wrinkled  and  contracted ;  eyes  bordered  by  those  dark 
and  sunken  circles  which,  once  acquired,  were  retained  to 
the  last;  and  wan  features  neither  relieved  nor  hidden 
by  beard  or  mustache,  —  all  give  painful  evidence  of  ill- 
health,  pain,  and  hard  work. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  Trustees  of  the  Massachusetts  Gen- 
eral Hospital  held  on  the  2d  day  of  February,  1846,  Dr. 
Warren  was  chosen  one  of  the  six  visiting  surgeons  of 
that  institution.  This  honor,  it  is  needless  to  say,  had 
been  thoroughly  earned ;  and  his  fitness  for  the  post  he 
promptly  proceeded  to  prove  by  entering  upon  the  duties 
thereof,  —  duties  which,  when  assumed,  he  performed  with 
conscientious  fidelity  to  the  very  close  of  his  life.  On  the 
16th  of  October  in  this  same  year  Dr.  Warren  was  pres- 
ent at  the  first  operation  on  a  patient  under  the  influence 
of  ether,  or  "Morton's  Letheon,"  as  it  was  termed  by 
some.  This  was  done  by  his  father,  and  it  formed  an 
epoch  in  the  annals  of  surgery  which  will  never  be  for- 
gotten so  long  as  humanity  is  still  subject  to  pain  and 
mutilation.1  At  that  time  there  were  few  or  none  who 
comprehended  the  full  grandeur  of  this  extraordinary  dis- 
covery or  the  wide  range  of  its  ultimate  beneficence. 
Even  the  principal  agents  in  its  introduction  to  the  notice 
of  the  profession  were  for  a  time  awestruck  at  the  possi- 

1  Long  after  the  verification  of  this  famous  discovery  Dr.  Jacob  Bigelow  did 
well-merited  justice  to  the  sagacious  trust  and  intrepidity  of  character  required  to 
exemplify  it  to  the  world  and  thus  assume  the  grave  responsibility  of  possible 
failure.  "  It  is  not  wonderful  that  in  the  designs  of  Providence  medicinal  agents 
should  exist,  capable  of  averting  pain  by  the  suspension  of  sensibility.  But  the 
wonder  is  that  after  mankind  had  borne  pain  ever  since  the  creation  of  their  race, 
any  person  should  be  found  of  sufficient  courage  and  strength  of  conviction  to  put 
through  the  untried  and  formidable  experiments  necessary  to  decide  whether  life 
would  continue  under  the  inhalation  of  a  scarce  respirable  vapor,  carried  to  such 
an  extent  as  to  destroy  sensibility  and  produce  apparent  death."  — Medical  and  Sur- 
gical Journal,  Nov.  25,  1869. 


230  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

bilities  revealed  to  them,  and  hesitated  before  the  dangers 
—  how  serious  they  knew  not  —  that  might  follow  from  its 
use.  While  acknowledging  the  present  and  indisputable 
effects  of  a  powerful  anaesthetic,  their  own  judgment  and 
learning  taught  them  that  a  twofold  influence  might  at- 
tend its  workings,  and  that  the  alleviation  of  the  moment 
might  be  dearly  bought  by  decay  of  mind  or  body  which 
would  last  for  a  lifetime. 

A  few  days  after  the  first  great  test  Dr.  John  C.  War- 
ren gave  certain  results  of  operations  performed  by  him, 
mostly  satisfactory,  and  adds :  — 

"  I  think  it  quite  probable  that  so  powerful  an  agent  may 
sometimes  produce  other  and  even  alarming  effects.  I  would 
therefore  recommend  that  it  should  never  be  employed  except 
under  the  inspection  of  a  judicious  and  competent  person.  .  .  . 
It  may  become  a  valuable  agent  in  the  hands  of  careful  and  well- 
instructed  practitioners,  even  if  it  should  not  prove  of  such  gen- 
eral application  as  the  imagination  of  sanguine  persons  would 
lead  them  to  anticipate." 

There  were  not  many  at  first  who  had  the  temerity  to 
run  so  great  a  risk  as  the  unlimited  use  of  ether  would 
have  inferred,  and  those  who  might  have  done  so  would 
have  laid  themselves  open  to  charges  of  rashness  and 
presumption,  which  not  even  all  the  blessings  that  have 
ensued  from  its  discovery  would  have  justified  or  effaced. 
Naturally  conservative,  like  his  father,  endowed  with  a 
judgment  cool  and  sound  and  not  at  all  prone  to  hasty 
conclusions,  Dr.  Warren  at  first  felt  his  way  cautiously  in 
this  matter.  Gladly  welcoming  this  boon  to  tortured 
humanity,  —  if  it  should  turn  out  to  be  such,  —  he  was 
yet  well  aware  that  at  any  moment,  in  spite  of  hopeful 
appearances,  pernicious  effects  might  declare  themselves 
and  cast  a  gloomy  shadow  over  the  prospect.  Eager  to 
test  its  real  merits,  he  proceeded  to  employ  the  anaesthetic 
as  often  as  he  dared ;  and  as  he  did  so,  he  made  frequent 
studies   and   minute    observations   on   its    effects.      The 


FIEST   PRIVATE    USE    OF    ETHER.  231 

results  of  these  he  published  in  the  "  Medical  and  Surgical 
Journal"  on  March  24  of  the  following  year.  As  Dr. 
Warren  has  devoted  the  concluding  chapter  of  his  "  Sur- 
gical Observations"  to  " Anesthetics,"  and  has  given 
therein  a  detailed  account  of  his  connection  with  the  first 
discovery  and  application  of  ether  and  his  subsequent 
experiences  of  its  effects,  it  would  be  superfluous  to  en- 
large upon  the  subject  in  this  memoir.  Suffice  it  to  state 
that  on  the  12th  of  November,  1846,  he  performed  the 
first  successful  operation  under  ether  which  was  done  in 
private  practice,  and  on  the  15th  of  the  next  month  he 
treated  the  first  child l  that  had  thus  far  been  subjected 
to  surgical  attention  under  the  same  conditions.  Subse- 
quently Dr.  Warren  in  connection  with  his  father  adopted 
the  use  of  chloric  ether  in  place  of  ether,  though  they 
both  finally  returned  to  the  first-named  anaesthetic  and 
employed  it  to  the  end  of  their  lives.  Its  superiority 
had  been  thoroughly  established  up  to  the  year  of  Dr. 
Warren's  death  by  over  twenty  thousand  successful 
instances  of  its  use  at  the  Massachusetts  General  Hospital 
alone.2 

1  This  child,  aged  twelve,  was  the  son  of  Mr.  Moses  P.  Ives,  of  Providence,  and 
afterwards  became  the  husband  of  Miss  Motley,  daughter  of  the  historian,  and 
wife  of  the  present  Sir  William  Vernon-Harcourt. 

2  The  clang  of  the  fierce  dissension  in  regard  to  the  actual  discoverer  of  the 
anesthetic  use  of  ether  which  quickly  followed  its  triumphant  revelation  to  the 
world  is  still  fresh  in  the  ears  of  many,  and,  in  truth,  its  echoes  even  yet  have 
hardly  died  away.  Rarely  has  the  fierceness  of  professional  partisanship,  of  civic 
jealousy,  of  foreign  assumption,  been  more  fully  illustrated  ;  and  it  can  be  realized 
by  none  save  those  who  lived  at  that  time  and  were  often  driven  perforce  to  take  a 
leading  part  in  the  conflict.  Those  who,  sensible  of  great  rights  in  peril  and  of 
great  possible  wrongs,  earnest  in  behalf  of  justice  and  carried  away  by  the  pre- 
vailing excitement,  dashed  into  the  arena  amid  the  madly  contending  parties,  — 
these  alone  can  tell  of  the  passionate  violence  and  persistency  of  the  onset,  of  the 
dexterous  thrusts  given  and  returned,  of  the  harshness  of  bitter  abuse  and 
recrimination. 

Though  Dr.  Warren  bore  himself  with  no  aggressive  mien  through  all  this  con- 
test, none  the  less  was  he  firm  in  his  defence  of  Dr.  Morton,  as  the  Columbus  of 
this  new  and  painless  realm.  Like  his  father,  he  ever  asserted  Dr.  Morton's 
claims,  and  with  him  he  signed  the  petition  addressed  to  Congress  in  1857,  over 
ten  years  after  the  discovery  of  etherization,  by  all  the  trustees  and  surgeons  of 
the  Massachusetts  General  Hospital,  in  which  they  testified  "  that  in  their  opinion 


232  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

On  the  23d  of  October,  1846,  Dr.  Warren  completed 
his  novitiate  at  the  hospital  by  performing  his  first  public 
operation,  the  dangerous  and  difficult  one  of  tying  the 
carotid  artery.1  It  was  in  every  sense  an  embarrassing 
ordeal,  the  terrors  of  which  doubtless  none  are  com- 
petent to  appreciate  but  those  who  have  been  exposed  to 
them.  For  a  surgeon  comparatively  young  the  trial  was 
the  more  severe  from  the  fact  that  nothing  was  used  to 
deaden  the  pain  of  the  patient,  as  the  employment  of 
ether  had  not  then  been  authorized  by  the  authorities  of 
the  hospital.  In  spite  of  every  obstacle  Dr.  Warren 
passed  happily  through  the  operation,  and  his  success  both 
gratified  his  father  extremely  and  gave  abundant  promise 
for  his  future  advancement. 

The  next  ten  years  of  Dr.  Warren's  life  were  marked 
chiefly  by  the  ordinary  routine  of  his  profession  and  by  a 
solidly  advancing  reputation.  During  his  residence  in 
Pemberton  Square  two  sons  and  a  daughter  had  been 
born  to  him,  while  at  No.  6  Park  Street,  to  which  he  had 
removed  in  1844,  four  other  children  had  been  added  to 
his  family.  These  gave  him  a  stronger  and  stronger  hold  on 
life,  and  drew  forth  with  ever  increasing  fervor  his  charac- 

Dr.  William  T.  G.  Morton  first  proved  to  the  world  that  ether  would  produce 
insensibility  to  the  pain  of  surgical  operations,  and  that  it  could  be  used  with 
safety,"  and  therefore  asked  for  "  a  recognition  of  his  services."  This  view  Dr. 
Warren  never  abandoned,  and  he  quite  agreed  with  the  sentiments  expressed  by 
his  friend  N.  I.  Bowditch,  in  his  "  Vindication  of  the  Hospital  Report,"  when  he 
wrote :  "  But  whatever  may  have  been  Dr.  Morton's  deficiencies  or  his  mistakes, 
I  feel  certain  that  to  him  the  world  owes  this  discovery.  Should  posterity  ever 
erect  a  commemorative  statue,  I  believe  that  it  will  be  inscribed  with  his  name." 
As  Dr.  Jacob  Bigelow  wrote  in  1870,  "  He  was  not  a  man  of  much  cultivation  or 
science;  but  like  the  pioneers  who  have  penetrated  the  Arctic  regions  and  the 
deserts  of  Africa,  he  had  a  hardihood  and  tenacity  of  purpose  which  carried  him 
where  more  cautious  and  perhaps  better  instructed  men  had  failed  to  advance.  As 
far  as  we  know,  he  is  the  only  man,  without  whom  anaesthetic  inhalation  might  have 
remained  unknown  to  the  present  day." 

1  Dr.  Warren  had  already  performed  with  complete  success  the  operation  of  lig- 
ature of  both  carotid  arteries,  —  a  much  more  searching  test  of  skill,  nerve,  and 
judgment  than  the  one  above  mentioned.  It  was  done  for  a  patient  of  his  own  in 
October,  1845,  and  a  minute  description  thereof  appears  in  Dr.  Warren's  "  Surgical 
Observations."  This  is  well  worth  perusal  by  any  one  interested  in  the  triumphs 
of  surgery. 


NOKWALK.  233 

teristic  wealth  of  affection.  In  the  joys  and  duties  of  home 
he  ever  found  a  delight  that  was  followed  by  no  pang  of 
sorrow  or  regret.  For  the  fashionable  circles  of  Boston, 
"  formal,  heartless,  conventional  in  manners  and  preten- 
sions," as  Judge  Story  fitly  described  them  in  a  letter 
written  shortly  before  this  time,  Dr.  Warren  cared  but 
little.  He  held  them  at  their  real  worth,  and  by  his 
own  hearth  sought  and  obtained  pleasures  such  as  his 
taste  and  conscience  commended  to  him  as  durable  and 
genuine. 

On  the  30th  of  April,  1853,  Dr.  Warren  went  to  New 
York  for  the  purpose  of  attending  the  American  Medical 
Convention  as  delegate  from  the  Massachusetts  General 
Hospital.  With  him  were  Mrs.  Warren,  his  son  Collins, 
and  his  nephew  Benjamin  Mifflin.  Nothing  that  calls 
for  especial  mention  occurred  at  that  gathering,  and  on 
the  6th  of  May  he  started  for  Boston.  By  great  and 
exceptional  good  fortune  he  and  his  family  were  destined 
to  reach  the  end  of  their  journey  alive,  but  it  was  their 
lot  to  witness  one  of  the  most  appalling  disasters  that 
have  ever  been  recorded  in  the  annals  of  travel,  —  the 
terrible  accident  at  Norwalk,  which  caused  the  sudden 
death  of  over  sixty  persons,  and  of  which  even  at  this 
day  the  mere  mention  excites  an  irrepressible  shudder.1 

Shortly  after  his  return  Dr.  Warren  recorded  in  his 
journal  the  bitter  experiences  of  this  melancholy  day  in 
plain  and  graphic  words.  They  are  here  given  as  a 
simple  narrative  of  a  casualty  which  will  always  awaken 
a  tragic  interest  not  to  be  increased  by  any  powers  of 
rhetorical  description,  —  a  narrative  which,  simple  as  it 

1  Luckily  for  the  peace  of  mind  of  Dr.  Warren's  numerous  relatives  and  friends, 
they  were  not  compelled  to  remain  long  in  suspense  as  to  his  safety,  for  his  pres- 
ervation was  stated  in  the  very  first  papers  issued  after  the  news  had  reached  Bos- 
ton. "  Frightful  and  Fatal  Eailroad  Accident !  The  cars  thrown  off  the  bridge 
at  Norwalk  !  Twenty  persons  killed  !  Dr.  Warren  and  others  from  Boston  safe." 
Such  was  the  announcement  which,  while  it  gave  rise  to  a  sharp  pang  of  sorrow 
in  the  hearts  of  all,  was  followed  by  a  thrill  of  devout  gratitude  in  not  a  few. 


234  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEEEN. 

is,  is  quickened  into  a  stern  and  vivid  impressiveness  by 
the  writer's  participation  in  that  which  it  describes. 

"  On  Friday  we  left  for  home,  taking  the  New  Haven  cars  in 
Canal  Street  at  a  quarter  before  eight.  As  the  first  car  was  full 
we  took  the  second,  and  occupied  the  eighth  row  of  seats  from 
the  door,  which  Mrs.  Warren  preferred  from  the  fact  of  there 
being  a  woman  and  child  in  front,  though  I  had  always  been  in 
the  habit  of  securing  the  first.  At  Twenty-seventh  Street  an- 
other car  was  added  between  ours  and  the  engine.  At  Stan- 
ford I  stepped  out  for  a  few  minutes,  and  saw  Dr.  Bartlett,  of 
Boston,  who  had  been  in  the  next  car  to  ours,  but  finding  it  too 
cold  he  joined  us.  Just  after  passing  the  station  at  Norwalk,  forty 
miles  from  New  York,  I  suddenly  felt  a  convulsive  crack,  im- 
mediately followed  by  the  disruption  of  the  train  in  front  of  us. 
Our  carriage  was  at  once  lifted  up  from  the  rails  and  struck  the 
one  before  it,  the  forward  half  being  knocked  into  splinters.  I 
expected  instant  death,  as  I  saw  everything  in  front  of  us, 
up  to  the  very  seats  on  which  we  were  sitting —  cars,  passen- 
gers, and  all  —  plunge  headlong  into  the  water  and  disappear. 
Having  dragged  Mrs.  Warren  and  the  children  up  into  the  rear 
of  the  car  which  so  happily  for  us  had  remained  on  the  track, 
I  made  my  escape  with  them  on  to  the  bridge  behind,  with  the 
loss  of  nothing  but  my  hat. 

"  Through  the  recklessness  of  the  engineer,  the  speed  of  the 
train  had  not  been  slackened  on  approaching  the  bridge ;  and  as 
this  was  open  for  the  passage  of  a  steamer,  we  were  doomed  to 
become  the  victims  of  his  folly.  Dr.  Peirson,  of  Salem,  I  found 
among  the  dead ;  Dr.  Lamb,  of  Lawrence,  had  his  nose  badly 
broken;  while  Dr.  Ives,  of  New  Haven,  and  Dr.  Bemis,  of 
Boston,  were  injured.  Of  all  those  who  were  plunged  into  the 
water  with  that  part  of  the  train  which  went  down,  the  only 
person  saved  was  Miss  Griswold,  daughter  of  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Griswold,  of  New  X0I"k,  who  was  resuscitated  after  two  hours' 
constant  exertion  on  my  part. 

"  We  arrived  in  Boston  about  one  o'clock.  Never  has  there 
been  known  a  greater  excitement  than  that  caused  by  the  oc- 
currence of  this  dreadful  tragedy.  In  Boston  the  whole  town 
were  in  a  state  of  distress  until  they  could  learn  who  were 
among  the  dead  and  who  among  the  living." 


ARDUOUS   EFFORTS.  235 

Ten  days  later,  Dr.  Warren  returned  to  the  scene  of 
the  accident  with  Mrs.  Warren.  His  journal  goes  on  to 
state  that  — 

"  The  weather  was  very  warm,  like  the  middle  of  July,  and 
we  slept  with  the  window  of  our  parlor  open.  We  saw  the 
broken  car  in  which  we  were  at  the  time  of  the  accident.  The 
back  half  of  it  had  been  brought  down  to  New  Haven  from 
Norwalk.  The  engine  was  there  also,  hardly  injured.  The 
baggage-room  was  full  of  clothing  from  the  broken  trunks,  — 
crushed  hats  and  bonnets,  shawls,  boots,  umbrellas,  books,  en- 
gravings, etc.  Our  trunk  was  not  to  be  seen,  though  we  recog- 
nized a  jacket  belonging  to  Bennie  Mifflin,  attached  to  a  piece  of 
twine  which  Mrs.  Warren  had  with  her  at  the  time ;  the  trunk, 
however,  was  subsequently  discovered  in  the  baggage-room  at 
New  York,  and  had  probably  not  been  put  on  the  train." 

This  account  of  the  Norwalk  tragedy  from  Dr.  Warren's 
pen  is  certainly  incomplete  in  one  respect,  since  it  hardly 
mentions  any  of  the  efforts  he  made  during  several  hours 
to  minister  to  the  needs  of  the  survivors,  and  to  bring 
something  like  organized  efficiency  to  bear  upon  the 
frightful  and  chaotic  confusion  that  came  close  upon  the 
disaster.  Bareheaded  and  almost  stunned  by  the  peril 
from  which  he  had  barely  escaped,  he  wrought  on  and 
on,  lending  a  helping  hand  wherever  he  saw  any  possible 
need  of  his  skill  and  experience.  Thoughtless  of  expo- 
sure, of  hunger,  thirst,  heat,  or  bodily  fatigue,  he  contin- 
ued his  arduous  labors  until  the  arrival  of  other  aid  and 
his  own  exhaustion  rendered  his  retirement  both  justi- 
fiable and  imperative.  He  chiefly  directed  his  attention 
to  Miss  Griswold,  who,  though  soon  drawn  up  from  the 
wreck,  had  been  under  the  water  long  enough  to  quench 
almost  entirely  the  vital  spark.  To  his  persevering 
efforts  she  owed  her  life,  and  never  was  the  miracle  of 
the  resurrection  more  closely  repeated.  For  over  two 
hours  she  lay  as  one  dead,  and  for  over  two  hours  did  her 
preserver  labor  over  her  and  refuse  to  surrender  to  Death 


236  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

the  prey  he  had  so  nearly  made  his  own.  His  judicious 
and  incessant  remedies  gradually  expanded  the  infinitesi- 
mal remnants  of  life  into  confirmed  action,  and  Miss  Gris- 
wold  was  finally  taken  to  her  home,  though  in  a  state  of 
such  utter  prostration  that  for  three  months  she  was  un- 
able to  leave  her  bed.  The  sole  survivor  of  those  who 
were  hurled  over  the  precipice,  she  lived  for  years  to 
bear  witness  not  only  to  the  happiness  of  her  deliverance, 
but  to  the  wonderful  skill  and  gallantry  which  had  wrested 
her  from  the  grave. 

Unfortunately,  though  Dr.  Warren  escaped  for  the  time 
apparently  unharmed,  there  is  some  reason  to  believe 
that  he  never  fully  recovered  from  the  consequences  of 
that  trying  day,  but  that  the  harsh  shock  to  his  nerves, 
with  the  subsequent  exposure,  labor,  and  excitement, 
seriously  increased  that  mental  and  bodily  debility  of 
which  he  was  already  a  victim  and  from  which  he  was 
afterwards  a  far  greater  sufferer.  Experience  has  shown 
that  the  effects  of  a  railroad  accident  often  fail  to  be 
appreciated  to  their  full  extent  by  those  who  have  taken 
part  in  it  until  some  time  after  its  occurrence,  and  it 
has  been  thought  that  such  may  have  been  the  case 
with  Dr.  Warren.  It  is  a  result  that  might  well  have 
followed  from  a  strain  so  unwonted  and  severe  upon  a 
nervous  system  far  from  strong,  and  a  constitution 
which  could  be  kept  in  order  only,  by  incessant  care 
and  the  avoidance  of  every  disturbing  influence.  To  the 
derangement  of  the  whole  system  arising  from  such  a 
shock  might  naturally  be  attributed  many  strange  and 
mysterious  symptoms  to  which  Dr.  Warren  was  subject 
for  years  after  this  accident,  and  for  which  it  would  be 
difficult  to  account  on  any  other  hypothesis.  In  a  note 
from  Dr.  Henry  I.  Bowditch,  which  hereafter  will  be 
given  in  full,  he  says :  — 

"  I  look  back  now  with  poignant  regret  at  the  thought  that 
what  I  supposed  was  the  result  of  a  partial  weakness  of  mind 


LAST  HOUES  OF  WEBSTER.  237 

and  of  hypochondriasis  was  in  reality  only  a  desire  to  save  him- 
self from  excruciating  pains  incident  to  that  fatal  complaint 
which  finally  caused  his  death  after  years  of  suffering." 

Among  all  the  cases  and  operations  of  which  Dr.  War- 
ren left  such  voluminous  records  in  his  day-books  none  is 
more  interesting  than  his  account  of  the  last  hours  of 
Daniel  Webster.  That  he  should  have  witnessed  these 
was  eminently  fitting.  Of  Dr.  John  C.  Warren  the  great 
statesman  had  long  been  an  intimate  friend,  and  mutual 
sympathy  and  admiration  had  gradually  developed  an 
attachment  which  ceased  not  to  burn  with  ever  increasing 
fervor  to  the  very  end.1  This  friendship  for  the  father 
Mr.  Webster  had  gladly  continued  to  the  son ;  and  when 
he  became  conscious  of  the  approach  of  that  mortality 
which  draws  us  all  towards  one  common  end,  he  gladly 
welcomed  the  suggestion  that  Dr.  Warren  should  be  sum- 
moned to  his  bedside  in  aid  of  the  older  physician  who 
had  been  his  more  especial  attendant  for  years.2     The 

1  The  following  letter,  which  was  addressed  to  Dr.  John  C.  Warren  in  1838, 
is  of  interest  in  this  connection.  It  is  equally  creditable  both  to  writer  and 
recipient. 

My  dear  Sir,  —  I  must  not  leave  home  without  thanking  you  for  your  letter  of  the 
8th.  Not  only  have  I  the  profoundest  regard  for  your  professional  knowledge  and  ability, 
but  we  have  always  agreed  so  well  in  almost  all  things,  I  have  liked  your  conversation 
and  company  so  much,  and  you  now  express  yourself  with  so  much  kindness  towards  me, 
that  I  must  give  myself  the  gratification  of  expressing  to  you  my  most  grateful  feelings, 
and  of  assuring  you  that  I  reciprocate  all  your  regard  and  good  wishes.  You  greatly  over- 
rate my  importance  to  anybody  except  my  family;  but  that  is  owing  to  the  warmth  of  your 
friendship  I  wish  I  was  as  sure  of  doing  good  for  the  rest  of  my  life  as  you  are.  The 
efforts  and  labors  of  political  men,  however  well  intended,  are  uncertain,  as  well  in  their 
effects  as  in  their  rewards.  But  your  labors  cannot  fail  of  either.  While  you  relieve  dis- 
tress, heal  the  sick,  and  disseminate  widely  that  knowledge  which  years  of  study  and  prac- 
tice have  given  you,  you  are  sure  that  you  are  doing  good,  and  rewards  of  all  kinds  will  not 
fail  you.  May  you  long  live,  my  dear  sir,  as  useful,  as  happy,  as  much  beloved  by  your 
friends,  as  you  now  are.    I  can  wish  you  nothing  better  in  this  world. 

Yours  as  ever, 

Daniel  Webster. 

2  Mr.  Webster's  regular  physician  was  Dr.  John  Jeffries,  though  he  had  been 
accustomed  during  the  latter  part  of  his  life  to  consult  Dr.  Mason  Warren  at  inter- 
vals, notably  after  that  fearful  accident  at  Kingston,  when  he  was  thrown  headlong 
from  his  carriage,  —  a  narrow  escape,  of  which  he  bore  the  marks  to  the  grave. 

Mr.  Hillard,  in  his  relation  of  the  circumstances  attending  Mr.  Webster's  last 
hours,  writes  that  he  said  to  Dr.  Jeffries  :  "  'Doctor,  you  have  carried  me  through 


238  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

record  here  given  derives  an  additional  value  from  the 
fact  that  it  was  written  but  a  few  hours  after  Mr.  Web- 
ster's death,  while  the  facts  were  fresh  and  clear  in  the 
writer's  mind,  and  with  the  design  of  presenting  nothing 
but  an  impartial  and  accurate  description  of  the  event. 
It  is  now  presented  in  full  for  the  first  time,  though  a 
portion  of  it  was  communicated  by  Dr.  Warren  to  Mr. 
George  T.  Curtis,  one  of  Mr.  Webster's  literary  executors, 
and  was  subsequently  employed  by  him  in  preparing  his 
life  of  the  great  orator. 

"  I  arrived  at  Marshfield  on  Saturday  evening  the  23d  of 
October  [1852]  at  about  half-past  seven,  Mr.  Webster  having 
requested  in  the  morning  that  I  should  be  sent  for.  I  saw  him 
first  at  eight  o'clock,  not  having  seen  him  before  since  the  spring, 
when  I  was  called  to  visit  him  at  Mr.  Paige's  on  his  return  from 
Marshfield  after  the  injury  he  had  received  at  Kingston.  On 
my  name  being  mentioned  he  turned  his  face  and  fixed  his  eyes 
upon  me  and  held  out  his  hand.  He  answered  with  clearness 
the  questions  I  proposed,  though  these  were  few  from  the  fear  I 
had  of  disturbing  him  and  causing  a  recurrence  of  the  vomiting 
which  had  troubled  him  at  intervals  throughout  the  day.  I 
stood  for  some  time  watching  him,  and  was  much  struck  with 
the  change  that  had  taken  place  in  his  appearance  since  the  time 
above  alluded  to.  His  complexion  was  quite  sallow ;  the  eyes 
sunk  in  the  sockets  and  when  at  rest  turned  up  in  the  head, 
indicating  a  great  degree  of  prostration.  His  whole  body  looked 
smaller,  and  he  was  evidently  greatly  emaciated. 

"  His  motions  were  very  difficult,  and  he  required  almost  a 
constant  change  of  position  from  one  side  of  the  bed  to  the 
other.  In  about  half  an  hour  from  the  time  I  entered  the  room, 
and  after  that  interval  of  rest,  he  suddenly  reached  out  his  hand 
and  begged  me  to  lift  him  up  in  bed.     This,  with  assistance, 

the  night.  I  think  you  will  get  me  through  the  day.  I  shall  die  to-night.'  The 
faithful  physician,  much  moved,  said  after  a  pause,  '  You  are  right,  sir.'  Mr. 
Webster  then  went  on :  'I  wish  you  therefore  to  send  an  express  to  Boston  for 
some  younger  person  to  be  with  you.  1  shall  die  to-night.  You  are  exhausted  and 
must  be  relieved.  Who  shall  it  be  ? '  Dr.  Jeffries  suggested  a  professional  brother, 
Dr.  J.  Mason  Warren,  adding  that  he  was  the  son  of  an  old  and  faithful  friend  of 
Mr.  Webster.  Mr.  Webster  replied  instantly, '  Let  him  be  sent  for.' "  —  A  Memorial 
of  Daniel  Webster  from  the  City  of  Boston. 


webstee's  decease.  239 

was  at  once  done,  when  without  any  great  effort  he  vomited,  or 
rather  seemed  to  raise  from  his  stomach  a  large  mass  of  clotted 
blood.  He  immediately  exclaimed,  '  I  feel  as  if  I  were  going  to 
sink  right  away.  Am  I  dying  ?  '  We  assured  him  that  he  was 
only  faint,  and  having  placed  him  back  on  the  pillow,  adminis- 
tered a  little  stimulus,  which  soon  revived  him,  and  restored 
the  circulation.  At  this  time,  and  from  the  moment  I  entered 
the  room,  I  observed  a  clammy  color  to  his  hands.  The  pulse 
at  intervals  was  scarcely  perceptible,  and  in  fact,  had  I  not 
judged  from  other  symptoms,  I  should  have  inferred  from  the 
state  of  the  pulse  that  he  could  not  have  survived  half  an  hour. 
This  great  tenacity  of  life,  and  the  very  gradual  giving  way  of 
the  vital  organs,  I  have  never  witnessed  in  any  other  case. 

"  He  now  fell  into  a  kind  of  doze,  occasionally  arousing  him- 
self, and  demanding  something  to  strengthen  him,  saying,  '  Give 
me  life,  give  me  life.'  Apparently  fearing  that  he  should  fall 
into  a  condition  in  which  he  would  be  unable  to  realize  the 
change  from  one  form  of  existence  to  another,  he  proposed 
various  questions,  such  as,  '  Am  I  alive  or  dead  ? '  and  others 
similar  to  this,  and  seemed  satisfied  with  the  answers  that  were 
given,  after  repeating  them  in  different  shapes.  Later  in  the 
evening  he  said  something  in  which  the  word  '  poetry '  was  dis- 
tinctly heard ;  and  the  whole  room  was  hushed,  and  he  seemed 
gratified  and  attentive  while  his  son  read  portions  of  Gray's 
Elegy.  Between  twelve  and  one  o'clock  he  gradually  became 
more  quiet,  and  ceased  to  ask  questions ;  his  breathing  became 
heavier,  as  of  a  person  in  a  sound  sleep,  and  his  pulse  could 
hardly  be  felt  at  the  wrist.  The  only  movement  he  made  was 
to  raise  his  hand  and  place  it  on  the  top  of  his  head,  which  he 
did  repeatedly.  Even  at  this  period  he  also  made  a  motion 
with  his  lips,  as  if  craving  liquids,  and  took  what  was  given 
him  in  a  spoon,  as  one  would  do  when  still  conscious. 

"  Respiration  now  became  more  difficult,  and  was  accompanied 
by  a  slight  blowing  motion  of  the  lips,  which  is  observed  in  the 
last  stages  of  life.  His  son  was  now  told  that  his  father's  end 
was  approaching,  and  entered  the  room.  Very  shortly  after  this 
the  breathing  stopped,  then  was  resumed  again  after  perhaps  a 
quarter  of  a  minute,  and  this  final  straggle  was  prolonged  in  a 
way  that  I  have  never  before  noticed.  Once  or  twice  we 
thought  he  had  breathed  his  last,  when  respiration  again  re- 


240  JONATHAN"   MASON   WARREN. 

turned.  At  last  a  slight  convulsive  action  passed  over  the  face, 
all  the  muscles  appeared  strongly  contracted,  and  the  whole 
face  turned  almost  black.  This  was  the  concluding  effort  of 
life,  and  was  at  once  followed  by  a  relaxation  and  entire  calm 
of  the  features.  He  died  lying  on  his  right  side  in  a  rather 
constrained  position,  as  for  an  hour  before  we  had  avoided 
doing  anything  that  might  disturb  him.  With  the  help  of 
those  present  I  now  had  him  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  bed, 
and  closed  his  eyes. 

"  During  the  evening  his  room  was  quite  full  of  friends  and 
relatives,  who  watched  every  motion  and  were  ready  to  admin- 
ister to  every  want.  One  or  two  of  his  favorite  black  domes- 
tics were  also  present,  and  took  the  most  intense  interest  in  all 
that  was  going  on.  I  particularly  noticed  an  old  woman  —  his 
cook,  I  believe,  called  '  Monica '  —  who  was  incessantly  moving 
about  in  great  agitation,  approaching  his  bedside,  looking  at 
him  and  holding  up  her  hands,  muttering  bits  of  prayer  to  her- 
self, with  occasional  exclamations,  such  as  '  God  bless  me  ! '  and 
others,  taking  but  little  notice  of  those  around  her.  Once  or 
twice,  however,  she  addressed  herself  to  me,  and  inquired, 
'  Is  n't  he  going  to  die  ?  '  and  '  Why  don't  he  die  ? '  and  '  You 
don't  think  he  '11  live  till  morning  ?  '  apparently  laboring  under 
the  impression  that  I  had  an  agency  in  prolonging  his  sufferings. 
This  woman,  I  understand,  was  formerly  a  slave,  and  was  set 
free  by  Mr.  Webster.  She  was  warmly  attached  to  him,  as  in 
truth  were  all  his  servants." 

Dr.  Warren  remained  at  Marshfield  long  enough  to 
assist  at  the  autopsy,  which  was  made  by  Dr.  J.  B.  S. 
Jackson.  The  cranial  capacity  proved  to  be  the  largest 
that  had  then  been  recorded  ;  and  the  weight  of  the  brain, 
which  was  63f  ounces,  was  most  extraordinary,  being 
greater  than  any  yet  known  except  that  of  Cuvier,  which 
exceeded  it  by  only  half  an  ounce.  Dr.  Warren  also 
embalmed  the  body  by  the  injection  of  arsenic,  and  in 
1866  was  much  pleased  to  learn  that  the  remains  had 
shown  no  signs  of  decay. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

THIRD  TOUR  EST  EUROPE. — DR.  RICHARD  WARREN.  —  FAILING 
HEALTH.  —  AGAIN  CROSSES  THE  OCEAN.  —  DEATH  OF  DR. 
JOHN  C.  WARREN  AND  HIS  LAST  MESSAGE.  —  RETURN  TO 
PRACTICE. 

After  nearly  ten  years  of  arduous  labor,  steadily  pur- 
sued in  spite  of  failing  health  and  a  strength  that  would 
slowly  decrease  notwithstanding  the  pressure  of  a  master- 
ful will,  Dr.  Warren  decided  to  seek  a  few  months'  rest 
in  Europe.  Never  was  rest  more  imperatively  demanded. 
On  the  24th  of  May,  in  the  year  1854,  he  sailed  from 
Boston  in  the  "  Europa  "  for  Liverpool  with  his  wife  and 
son.  After  a  passage  of  only  ten  days  he  reached  his  desti- 
nation with  little  discomfort  to  himself  or  those  about  him. 
Soon  after  this  he  was  in  London,  and  occupied  with  a 
busy  round  of  engagements,  visiting  hospitals,  museums, 
and  other  institutions  of  especial  interest.  From  many 
professional  men  of  the  highest  repute  he  received  abun- 
dant civilities,  none  the  less  that  they  retained  lively  rec- 
ollections both  of  himself  and  of  his  father.  Sir  William 
Lawrence,  Mr.  Owen,  Mr.  Waterhouse,  of  the  British 
Museum,  and  numerous  others  tendered  to  him  and  his 
family  the  most  courteous  hospitalities.  His  ancestral 
sympathies  were  never  out  of  his  mind  even  in  the  midst 
of  all  these  engrossing  occupations.  "  Yesterday,"  he 
records  in  his  journal,  "we  went  through  Westminster 
Abbey.  I  noticed  a  monument  there  to  Sir  Peter  Warren ; 
also  to  John  Warren,  Bishop   of  Bangor."  *     The  clubs 

1  The  Bishop  of  Bangor  was  the  younger  brother  of  a  physician  who  gained 
peculiar  fame  in  both  medical  and  political  annals  during  the  latter  half  of  the  last 

16 


242  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

were  freely  opened  to  him.  He  dined  with  Dr.  Shaw,  at 
the  Reform  Club.     Early  in  July  he  went  to  Paris,  where 

century.  This  was  Dr.  Richard  Warren,  —  a  name  familiar  to  New  Englanders  as 
borne  by  the  only  Warren  among  the  passengers  by  the  "  Mayflower  "  on  her  first  voy- 
age. He  was  born  in  1731  and  died  in  1797,  leaving  a  widow  (whose  maiden  name  was 
Elizabeth  Shaw,  the  daughter  of  Dr.  Peter  Shaw,  an  eminent  London  physician), 
and  ten  children,  to  whom  he  bequeathed  £150,000,  all  the  fruits  of  his  own  talents 
and  industry  and  an  enormous  sum  for  that  day.  During  the  last  years  of  his  life 
his  income  amounted  to  £8,000  per  annum.  Wraxall  calls  him  "  in  every  sense  the 
leader  of  the  medical  profession  "  of  his  time,  and  he  had  the  honor  of  being  termed 
by  Burke,  during  a  fiery  and  famous  debate  with  Pitt,  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
"  the  first  physician  in  England."  It  was  his  fortune  as  "  physician  in  ordinary  to 
his  Majesty  "  to  have  the  principal  care  of  George  III.,  at  the  time  of  his  insanity 
in  1788.  His  professional  opinion  as  to  his  Majesty's  actual  condition  was  one  of 
the  causes  which  led  the  Whigs  to  contest  the  Regency  question  so  strenuously, 
and  produced  a  political  tempest  that  shook  the  country  to  its  centre.  He  was 
offered  a  baronetcy,  which  he  declined,  though  he  was  so  far  honored  in  this 
respect  as  to  be  saluted  on  one  of  his  visits  to  the  insane  monarch  with  the 
peculiar  title  of  "  Ricardensus  Warrenensus,  baronetensus."  His  portrait  by  Gains- 
borough is  the  chef-d'ceuvre  of  the  collection  now  belonging  to  the  Royal  College  of 
Physicians,  of  which  he  was  a  Fellow  and  an  Elect.  He  was  succeeded  in  his  pro- 
fessional name  and  fame  by  his  ninth  son,  Dr.  Pelham  Warren,  who  was  one  of  the 
most  distinguished  practitioners  in  London  at  the  time  of  Dr.  Mason  Warren's 
first  visit  to  that  city.  The  name  of  Warren,  it  will  thus  be  seen,  had  then  been 
conspicuous  in  the  profession  in  England  for  the  better  part  of  a  century. 

Few  physicians  have  enjoyed  a  more  prosperous  or  a  more  brilliant  career,  or 
have  been  held  in  greater  respect  by  their  professional  contemporaries,  than  Dr. 
Richard  Warren.  In  Munk's  "  Roll  of  the  Royal  College  of  Physicians,"  we 
read:  "To  a  sound  judgment  and  deep  observation  of  men  and  things,  Dr. 
Warren  added  various  literary  and  scientific  attainments,  which  were  most  advan- 
tageously displayed  by  a  natural  talent  for  conversation  that  was  at  once  elegant, 
easy,  and  natural.  Of  all  men  in  the  world  he  had  the  greatest  flexibility  of  temper, 
instantaneously  accommodating  himself  to  the  tone  of  feeling  of  the  young,  the  old, 
the  gay,  the  sorrowful.  But  he  was  himself  of  a  very  cheerful  disposition,  and  his 
manner  being  peculiarly  pleasing  to  others,  he  possessed  over  the  minds  of  his 
patients  the  most  absolute  control ;  and  it  was  said  with  truth  that  no  one  ever  had 
recourse  to  his  advice  as  a  physician  who  did  not  remain  desirous  of  gaining  his 
friendship  and  enjoying  his  society  as  a  companion.  In  interrogating  the  patient 
he  was  apt  and  adroit ;  in  the  resources  of  his  art,  quick  and  inexhaustible ;  and 
when  the  malady  was  beyond  the  reach  of  his  skill,  the  minds  of  the  sick  were 
consoled  by  his  conversation,  and  their  cares,  anxieties,  and  fears  soothed  by  his 

presence."  , 

In  the  year  1800,  when  delivering  the  Harveian  oration,  Sir  Henry  Halford,  the 
illustrious  confrere  of  Dr.  Richard  Warren,  paid  a  long  and  well-deserved  tribute  to  his 
many  talents  and  virtues,  and  in  eloquent  Latin  acknowledged  the  indebtedness  of 
the  profession  to  his  bright  example. 

This  somewhat  lengthy  reference  to  Dr.  Richard  Warren  is  given,  partly  from 
the  numerous  points  of  resemblance  between  him  and  the  subject  of  this  memoir 
and  partly  to  show  that  the  elements  of  success  in  the  medical  profession  are  every- 
where  and  invariably  the  same. 


THE    GRAND   ROUND.  243 

some  weeks  were  spent,  the  weather  being  "  excessively 
hot."  July  23d  he  writes,  "I  continue  to  get  hold  of 
some  medical  information  every  day  at  least."  From 
Civiale  he  received  the  kind  attentions  invariably  offered 
to  all  that  bore  his  name.  The  beginning  of  August 
saw  the  party  in  Switzerland,  where  they  went  over 
the  then  customary  "grand  round"  from  Geneva  and 
Chamonix  to  Interlaken,  Berne,  Zurich,  Basle,  and  finally 
by  the  Rhine  and  Strasburg  back  to  Paris  again.  Au- 
gust 23  they  were  in  that  city,  and  on  the  10th  of  Sep- 
tember they  quitted  it  for  Dieppe,  en  route  for  London, 
stopping  over  one  day  at  Lewes  to  see  Southover  Church 
and  "  the  seats  of  our  ancient  ancestors." 

After  a  short  stay  in  London  the  little  party  betook 
themselves  to  Edinburgh,  where  the  peculiar  kindness 
shown  by  Dr.  Simpson1  added  greatly  to  their  enjoyment. 
At  the  end  of  a  week  they  left  for  Liverpool,  where  Dr. 
Warren  attended  the  annual  meeting  of  the  British  Asso- 
ciation, "  which  is  said  to  be  one  of  the  most  distinguished 

1  Dr.  Simpson,  afterwards  Sir  James  Y.  Simpson,  Bart.,  was  noted  for  his  gen- 
erous hospitalities  to  his  own  profession ;  and  to  none  was  he  more  amply  attentive 
than  to  the  American  representatives  thereof.  Those  who  came  from  Boston  found 
him  peculiarly  kind,  though  the  last  souvenir  he  received  from  this  city  can  hardly 
have  tended  to  increase  his  regard  in  their  behalf.  This  was  in  the  shape  of  a  letter 
from  the  pungent  and  patriotic  pen  of  Dr.  Jacob  Bigelow,  who  took  pardonable 
offence  at  the  language  of  the  Lord  Provost  of  Edinburgh  in  1870,  when  he  addressed 
Sir  James  on  a  public  occasion  as  "  the  author  of  the  greatest  of  all  discoveries 
in  modern  times,  —  the  application  of  chloroform  to  the  assuagement  of  human 
suffering," — the  truth  of  which  was  tacitly  admitted  by  Sir  James  in  his  reply. 
This  caused  much  excitement  in  the  profession,  and  it  may  be  rightly  said  in  the 
world  as  well.  Sir  James's  caustic,  speedy,  and  exhaustive  rejoinder  was  soon  fol- 
lowed by  his  death  in  May  of  the  same  year ;  and  the  whole  contest  served  as  a  sort 
of  final  reverberation  of  that  virulent  warfare  to  which  the  discovery  of  ether  gave 
birth. 

In  the  course  of  his  rejoinder  Sir  James  did  not  fail  to  pay  his  respects  to  that 
"  nameless  column,"  the  ether  monument  in  the  Public  Garden  of  this  city.  "  There 
has  lately  been  raised  in  Boston,"  he  wrote,  "  a  monument  in  commemoration  of  its 
being  the  birthplace  of  anassthesia  in  dentistry  and  surgery  in  1846.  But  have 
the  erectors  of  this  monument  cut  upon  it  the  names  of  either  of  your  fellow- 
citizens,  Dr.  Morton  or  Dr.  Jackson,  as  the  first  investigators,  or  the  names  of 
Warren  and  Hay  ward,  as  the  first  Boston  hospital  surgeons  who  operated  upon 
patients  under  the  influence  of  sulphuric  ether?  " 


244  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

that  has  ever  come  together."  September  30  the  party 
sailed  for  Boston,  where  they  arrived  on  the  13th  of  Oc- 
tober in  good  spirits,  and  with  considerable  refreshment  to 
him  for  whose  especial  benefit  the  tour  had  been  under- 
taken. As  their  steamer  entered  the  harbor  of  Halifax  a 
little  incident  occurred  which  was  well  calculated  to  ex- 
cite the  gratitude  of  the  party  for  their  safe  return.  It 
was  the  sudden  advent  of  a  little  steamboat  containing 
two  officers  and  twenty-five  of  the  crew  of  the  unfortu- 
nate "  Arctic,"  sunk  on  the  27th  of  the  preceding  month 
with  three  hundred  and  twenty-two  souls.  These  survi- 
vors were  taken  on  board  the  "  Europa  "  and  went  in  it 
to  Boston. 

Unhappily  the  experiences  of  another  winter  with  its 
fatig-nino;  duties  made  it  very  evident  that  Dr.  Warren's 
health  was  far  from  being  re-established  with  the  complete- 
ness that  had  been  desired  and  imagined.  Ailments  now 
appeared  that  were  the  source  of  more  serious  annoyance 
than  he  had  as  yet  suffered.  To  bodily  languor  and 
feeble  digestion  had  gradually  succeeded  the  graver  trou- 
ble of  nervous  prostration,  accompanied  at  times  by  in- 
tense excitement  amounting  to  hysteria.  Mental  lassitude 
had  been  followed  by  extreme  dejection,  which  had  finally 
pressed  upon  him  with  a  weight  so  heavy  that  it  became 
almost  intolerable,  and  the  sorely  strained  faculties  at 
times  threatened  to  give  way  altogether.  Strange  to  say, 
however,  through  all  this  season  of  depression,  nothing 
ever  affected  the  performance  of  his  medical  or  surgical 
duties.  Though  at  times  apparently  "  perplexed  in  the 
extreme,"  the  spirit  and  habit  of  professional  order  and 
allegiance  were  invariably  present,  and  never  failed  so 
shrewdly  to  control  the  hand  that  wielded  the  knife  or 
the  lancet,  that  neither  nervous  weakness  nor  loss  of  skill 
was  perceptible  to  the  keenest  eye.  To  Dr.  Warren  the 
only  chance  of  relief  from  these  grave  disorders  seemed 
to  lie  in  a  more  extended  journey  and  a  longer  absence 


GENERAL   WARREN'S   REMAINS.  245 

from  the  cares  of  his  practice.  The  same  view  was  taken 
by  his  life-long  friend,  Dr.  James  Jackson,  though  it  was 
never  favored  by  his  father,  in  whose  unceasing  experi- 
ence and  devotion  he  would  have  done  better  to  confide, 
stimulated  as  it  was  by  an  anxiety  as  intense  as  any  fa- 
ther ever  felt  in  a  son's  behalf,  and  so  poignant  that  even 
at  the  very  last  hour  he  forcibly  urged  his  son  to  abandon 
his  project. 

Shortly  before  his  departure  for  Europe,  Dr.  Warren 
assisted  at  the  removal  of  the  remains  of  General  Joseph 
Warren  from  the  crypt  of  St.  Paul's  Church  to  the  family 
lot  at  Forest  Hills,  where  they  now  rest.  It  was  a  pious 
office,  though  a  melancholy  one,  —  more  melancholy  in 
truth  than  he  knew,  as  he  and  his  father,  who  stood  by  his 
side,  were  on  the  verge  of  a  separation  which  was  to  have 
no  end  in  this  world.  Had  they  chosen  one  last  ceremony 
to  solemnize  that  parting  and  unite  them  still  more  closely 
for  the  moment  than  ever  before,  it  would  surely  have 
been  such  a  one  as  this.  Faithful  to  each  other  even  unto 
death,  nothing  could  have  more  thoroughly  blended  their 
very  souls  in  one  than  the  work  of  tenderly  caring  for  the 
ashes  of  him  whom  all  men  had  ever  held  in  reverence, 
and  whose  example  had  always  urged  them  on  towards 
everything  that  was  noble,  just,  and  patriotic ; 1  towards 
those  monumental  deeds  which  rise  high  in  the  memory 
of  mankind  — 

"  When  tyrants'  crests  and  tombs  of  brass  are  spent." 

On  the  29th  of  August,  1855,  Dr.  Warren  sailed  from 
Boston  in  the  "  America,"  with  his  wife  and  three  of  his 
children,  —  his  son  and  two  daughters.  The  steamer  had 
one  hundred  and  four  passengers  in  all.     From  Liverpool 

1  "  The  remains  of  General  Joseph  Warren  were  removed  from  St.  Paul's  to 
Forest  Hills  on  Aug.  3, 1855,  when  my  father,  Sullivan,  William  Appleton,  and  my- 
self put  them  into  a  stone  or  earthen  urn,  like  those  of  John  Warren,  Mrs.  Warren, 
and  my  mother.  The  place  was  quite  moist  where  they  were  put,  and  the  hole  in 
the  head  of  General  Warren  was  becoming  enlarged  by  the  crumbling  of  the  mar- 
gin.    I  had  a  photograph  made  of  it  in  three  positions."  —  Journal,  May  6,  1859. 


246  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

they  travelled  to  London,  and  thence,  after  a  few  days,  to 
Paris,  which  on  the  16th  of  October  they  left  for  Geneva, 
and  finally  reached  Vevay,  where  the  son  was  placed  at 
a  school  for  the  winter.  From  that  town  the  party  left 
for  Italy  by  the  way  of  the  Mont  Cenis  Pass,  which  they 
crossed  in  their  own  carriage  to  Turin,  —  one  of  the  very 
last  instances,  by  the  way,  of  travelling  by  post  over  that 
route.  Going  through  Genoa,  Pisa,  and  Florence,  they 
at  length  arrived  in  Rome  on  the  7th  of  November,  "  in 
a  perfect  deluge  of  rain."  Having  secured  an  apartment 
in  the  well-known  house  of  Serny,  No.  25  Piazza  di 
Spagna,  Dr.  Warren  settled  down  for  the  winter.  The 
season  proved  to  be  unusually  trying  and  disagreeable 
from  many  causes.  The  remarkably  bad  weather  gave 
fresh  support  to  Dr.  Warren's  opinion  that,  taking  all 
things  into  account,  the  climate  of  New  England  was  the 
best  in  the  world.  So  far  from  experiencing  the  benefit 
that  had  been  sought,  the  patient  became  rather  worse, 
both  in  mind  and  body,  the  former  becoming  so  sadly 
affected  that  his  family  were  much  alarmed.  Dr.  Warren 
did  what  he  could  in  his  own  behalf,  and  in  a  letter  to  his 
brother-in-law  wrote,  "  I  employ  myself  in  giving  the 
children  lessons,  walking,  and  riding  on  horseback,  but 
am  debarred  from  going  into  the  galleries  from  fear  of 
the  effects  of  cold  after  exercise ;  "  but  nevertheless  the 
reins  were  slipping  further  and  further  from  his  grasp. 
Slowly  the  winter  moved  on,  with  much  distress  and 
many  a  fear  to  those  about  him.  It  was  a  decided  relief 
to  his  family  when  the  conviction  finally  came  to  both 
him  and  them  that  nothing  was  likely  to  be  gained  from 
a  longer  stay  in  Rome,  and  that  Dr.  Warren's  own  home 
and  his  own  climate  offered  far  better  conditions  for  a 
possible  recovery  than  anything  to  be  found  in  Europe. 
Accepting   the    escort   kindly  offered   by  a  friend1  and 

1  Mr.  Josiah  Quincy,  Jr.,  the  friend  in  question,  gave  the  writer  a  most  inter- 
esting account  of  the  perfect  self-control  which,  as  has  been  before  remarked,  habit 


EETUKN"   TO   BOSTON".  247 

neighbor,  they  made  their  way  slowly  northward  in  the 
spring,  and  travelling  by  way  of  Civita  Vecchia,  where 
they  took  a  steamer  to  Marseilles,  ultimately  passed 
through  Paris  and  London  to  Liverpool,  reaching  Boston 
in  the  "Europa,"  on  the  3d  of  July,  1856.  On  his  arrival 
he  went  at  once  with  his  wife  and  children  to  the  old 
family  mansion  at  Brookline,  where  they  spent  the  re- 
maining summer  months,  and  that  with  decided  refresh- 
ment, as  he  found  all  the  conditions  —  the  air,  the  locality, 
the  driving  with  a  spirited  horse  that  had  belonged  to  his 
father  —  most  favorable  to  his  recovery.  He  seemed  to 
draw  in  new  life  with  every  breath.  These  were  all  the 
more  necessary  to  his  cure,  as  he  had  encountered  on  his 
arrival  many  gloomy  fatalities,  which  might  naturally 
have  confirmed  his  customary  depression,  and  in  any 
event  were  but  little  fitted  to  restore  a  mental  equilib- 
rium that  had  been  so  seriously  disturbed. 

On  the  4th  of  the  preceding  May  Dr.  "Warren's  father 
had  died,  having  gradually  succumbed  to  advancing  years, 
though  the  immediate  cause  of  his  decease  was  undoubt- 
edly grief  at  his  son's  condition  and  despair  of  his  final 
recovery.  On  the  very  day  of  Dr.  Warren's  return  his 
sister,  Mrs.  Charles  Lyman,  had  also  passed  away,  and 
thus  deepened  the  darkness  that  had  gathered  about  him, 
though  her  loss,  compared  with  that  of  his  father,  would 
have  been  easy  to  bear.  That  sorrow  none  could  really 
estimate  but  himself,  and  the  sundering  of  a  tie  so  strong 
and  tender  wrenched  his  very  heart-strings ;  but,  as  be- 
fore, he  endured  this  also  in  silence,  and  even  of  those 
nearest  and  dearest  to  him  none  could  realize  the  depth 

and  professional  instinct  led  Dr.  Warren  to  display,  even  when  agitated  by  the 
greatest  mental  disorder.  On  board  the  steamer  to  Marseilles  a  cinder  had  been 
blown  into  the  eye  of  one  of  his  daughters,  causing  much  pain  and  distress.  Her 
father,  in  the  midst  of  all  his  agitation,  became  instantly  calm  at  the  sight,  and 
whipping  out  an  instrument  from  his  pocket  ordered  his  child  to  show  her  eye  to 
him.  Trembling  she  did  so,  when  with  a  keen  and  characteristic  rapidity  the 
particle  was  removed,  and  again  the  mind  of  the  operator  gave  way  to  those 
strange  influences  that  before  were  ruffling  it. 


248  JONATHAN"  MASON  WAEREN. 

of  his  affliction  from  any  outward  and  visible  evidence. 
In  his  mind  his  father  had  through  death  been  born  into 
a  sacred  immortality,  and  in  his  own  memory  was  still  an 
undying  presence.  From  this  new  life  achieved  beyond 
the  grave  came  a  certain  strength  and  invigoration, 
which,  fortified  by  the  pure  elixir  of  a  past  so  lofty  in  its 
aims,  ever  incited  to  fresh  labors,  fresh  discipline,  and  a 
stronger  faith. 

Some  weeks  before  he  turned  his  steps  towards  home 
Dr.  Warren  received  from  his  father  the  last  letter  he 
was  destined  to  have  from  his  hand,  and  apparently  the 
last  of  any  length  that  the  writer  ever  penned.  It  was 
written  two  months  before  the  latter's  death,  at  a  time 
when  the  "  grasshopper  had  become  a  burden,"  and  every 
unwonted  exertion  told  heavily  upon  failing  powers. 
Though  too  long  to  quote  in  its  entirety,  the  concluding 
portion  may  properly  here  be  given,  as  the  final  utter- 
ance of  a  dying  father  to  a  son  who  was  dear  to  him 
beyond  all  earthly  things.  Its  perusal  will  show  how 
earnest  was  the  writer's  anxiety  for  his  son's  eternal  hap- 
piness, and  his  trust  that  Heaven  might  send  that  help 
which  earth  seemed  unable  to  provide.  After  the  ex- 
pression of  his  deep  solicitude  for  his  son's  condition,  with 
much  sound  and  sensible  advice,  Dr.  Warren  ends  his 
letter  as  follows :  — 

There  is  nothing  better  adapted  to  relieve  your  present 
feelings  than  a  right  religious  sentiment.  I  was  therefore  grati- 
fied with  your  allusion  to  the  subject.  Perhaps  it  has  pleased 
Providence  to  afflict  you  so  severely  for  the  purpose  of  direct- 
ing your  attention  from  your  bodily  sufferings  and  reliefs  to  a 
higher  and  more  permanent  source  of  comfort,  in  the  thought 
that  all  these  troubles  are  destined  to  produce  a  more  immediate 
sense  of  dependence  on  the  Author  of  all  good.  In  order  to 
accomplish  the  work  thus  begun  you  must  give  up  this  close 
attention  to  your  painful  feelings,  and  throw  yourself,  body  and 
soul,  at  the  feet  of  Him  who  alone  can  give  you  permanent 
relief.     If  you  can  do  this  thoroughly,  not  as  a  momentary  feel- 


IMPROVING   HEALTH.  249 

ing,  but  a  settled  temper  of  mind,  you  will  realize  a  tranquillity 
which  you  can  experience  in  no  other  way. 

So,  praying  God  to  bring  you  to  this  most  happy  conclusion, 
and  your  family  also,  I  remain 

Your  affectionate  father, 

J.  C.  Warren. 

To  the  unspeakable  gratification  and  relief  of  all  his 
friends,  at  the  end  of  a  few  months  after  Dr.  Warren's 
return  favorable  symptoms  began  to  appear,  and  these 
were  soon  followed  by  increasing  physical  strength,  and  a 
mental  vigor  to  which  he  had  long  been  a  stranger.1 
The  dawning  light  gradually  brightened  into  perfect  day, 
without  cloud,  serene ;  and  the  self-absorption  born  of  his 
troubles  gave  way  before  the  inspiring  claims  of  the  pro- 
fession that  he  loved  so  well,  and  to  which  he  now  gave 
himself  up  with  increasing  energy  and  absorption.  In 
October  he  exchanged  his  somewhat  contracted  abode  on 
Park  Street  for  No.  2 2  on  the  same  street,  which  had  so 
long  been  the  residence  of  his  father.  As  he  had  now 
five  children,  this  removal  greatly  increased  his  comfort ; 
and,  in  truth,  the  need  of  more  roomy  quarters  had  be- 
come absolutely  imperative,  as  the  dwelling  at  No.  6, 
though  cheerful  and  convenient,  both  without  and  within, 
was  but  a  little  slice  of  a  house,  at  best.  For  the  next 
few  years  Dr.  Warren's  health,  though  always  delicate, 
and  requiring  careful  and  judicious  management,  con- 
tinued equal  to  the  ordinary  demands  upon  his  strength, 
both  mentally  and  bodily.  In  1859  his  oldest  child, 
Mary,  was  married  to  Mr.  Samuel  Hammond,  an  alliance 

1  During  all  Dr.  Warren's  protracted  trials  he  derived  abundant  aid  and  efficient 
encouragement  from  his  father's  early  and  devoted  friend,  and  his  own  as  well,  Dr. 
James  Jackson,  whose  skill  and  experience  had  seldom  been  more  severely  tested. 
The  attachment  he  had  ever  felt  for  the  father  Dr.  Jackson  never  ceased  warmly 
to  manifest  towards  the  son,  and  in  any  trouble,  professional  or  other,  especially 
after  his  father's  death,  Dr.  Warren  confidently  relied  upon  his  advice,  and  never 
in  vain.     He  outlived  Dr.  Warren  but  one  week. 

2  A  descriptive  sketch  of  this  house  —  so  long  a  centre  of  domestic  and  pro- 
fessional interest  —  will  be  found  appended  to  this  memoir. 


250  JONATHAN   MASON    WARREN. 

which  was  the  source  of  much  comfort  and  satisfaction  to 
the  end  of  his  life,  and  none  the  less  that  he  was  not  des- 
tined to  witness  the  marriage  of  any  one  of  his  other 
children.  From  the  year  1846  his  summers  were  almost 
invariably  spent  at  Nahant,  a  spot  for  which  he  felt  an 
extraordinary  attachment.  This  annual  recreation  greatly 
invigorated  him,  while  the  vicinity  of  the  place  to  Boston 
enabled  him  to  continue  his  daily  visits  to  the  hospital,1 
and  this  with  more  ease  to  himself  than  could  have  been 
experienced  elsewhere,  since  he  could  pass  to  and  fro  in 
the  steamer,  —  a  means  of  conveyance  which  he  found 
indispensable,  as  any  wheeled  vehicle  now  caused  him  a 
degree  of  discomfort  that  he  could  no  longer  endure  even 
under  the  most  favorable  conditions.2  To  alleviate  this 
as  much  as  possible,  he  had  finally  been  obliged  to  em- 
ploy an  air  cushion,  which  he  carried  continually  under 

1  On  the  afternoon  of  Saturday,  the  day  of  the  customary  weekly  operations  at 
the  hospital,  and  on  the  afternoon  following,  Dr.  Warren  was  wont  to  visit  the 
institution,  that  he  might  see  the  new  patients  and  look  after  their  condition ;  and 
never  did  he  fail  to  bestow  a  few  kind  words  upon  them,  or  to  minister  to  their 
various  needs.  Not  unfrequently,  on  these  occasions,  he  was  accompanied  by  one 
or  more  of  his  young  daughters,  who  would  sometimes  take  tea  with  the  nurses. 
The  whole  place  had  a  winning  charm  in  his  eyes.  "  Sunday,  June  2L  1S66,"  his 
journal  records,  "in  the  afternoon  visited  the  hospital  again.  Rosamond,  Alice 
Bradlee,  and  myself  went  there  last  evening  by  moonlight.  The  scene  was  very 
beautiful.  Found  the  students  very  assiduous  in  brewing  claret  punch,  one  of  the 
principal  operators,  who  is  a  patient,  having  a  bandage  round  his  head." 

2  This  infirmity  had  gradually  come  to  be  the  cause  of  much  deprivation  to  Dr. 
Warren,  as  he  was  naturally  very  fond  of  riding  and  driving,  and  not  only  needed 
the  bodily  exercise,  but  his  quick  nerves  found  a  certain  composure  in  the  lively 
and  vigorous  motion.  Like  his  father,  he  was  conscious  of  a  sort  of  magnetic  sym- 
pathy with  a  good  horse,  and  could  well  appreciate  the  fine  points  of  one.  He 
had  a  keen  conception  of  the  animal's  nature,  and  a  knowledge  of  his  anatomy 
as  well.  At  one  period  he  was  accustomed  to  ride  daily  with  his  brother-in-law 
Mr.  Charles  Lyman,  and*  at  a  very  rapid  pace.  On  Cambridge  Bridge  his  horse 
trod  on  a  lump  of  frozen  earth,  and  soon  came  to  a  stop.  Having  dismounted,  the 
Doctor  passed  his  hand  over  the  animal's  leg,  and  quickly  showed  his  comprehen- 
sion of  the  accident  by  declaring  that  the  great  pastern  bone  was  broken.  Subse- 
quent examination  showed  that  it  was  fractured  in  five  places.  He  was  rarely 
taken  by  surprise  on  any  occasion,  and  when  again  riding  with  Mr.  Lyman  near 
the  locality  where  this  incident  happened,  and  a  man  in  a  wagon  rudely  drove  into 
the  latter,  Dr.  Warren  at  once  urged  his  steed  forward,  crowded  the  offender  on  to 
the  sidewalk,  and  compelled  him  to  give  his  name  and  address. 


THE   GEEAT   REBELLION.  251 

his  arm,  and  thus  deadened  the  pains  which  were  sure  to 
result  from  a  sitting  posture. 

The  outbreak  of  the  great  Rebellion  made  a  prompt 
and  urgent  appeal  to  all  Dr.  Warren's  patriotic  sympa- 
thies. His  own  instincts  taught  him  at  once  the  course 
to  pursue,  and  throughout  the  war  he  never  failed  to 
extend  in  innumerable  shapes  to  his  struggling  country 
the  help  she  had  a  right  to  demand  from  every  citizen. 
Professionally  his  services  were  bestowed  with  especial 
interest  and  ability,  and  as  one  of  the  State  Board  of 
Medical  Examiners  he  was  able  to  offer  much  effective 
aid  as  the  outcome  of  his  large  experience.  To  gun-shot 
wounds  he  gave  particular  attention;  and  many  of  the 
most  important  cases  that  came  to  his  notice  or  were 
brought  to  him  for  treatment,  he  published  in  a  pamphlet 
for  the  benefit  of  the  profession.  In  1862  Dr.  Warren 
sent  to  Paris  for  three  surgical  knapsacks,  of  the  pattern 
used  in  the  French  army,  with  the  design  of  presenting 
them  to  regiments  which  had  gained  notable  distinction 
since  the  beginning  of  the  war.  One  of  these  was  sub- 
sequently given  to  Dr.  Greene,  surgeon  of  the  Twenty- 
fourth  Regiment ;  another  to  the  Forty -fifth,  or  Cadet, 
Regiment ;  while  the  third  was  forwarded,  with  a  compli- 
mentary letter,  to  Dr.  Dyer,  surgeon  of  the  Nineteenth. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

INCREASING  ILLNESS. — ADDRESS  TO   THE   MASSACHUSETTS 

MEDICAL      SOCIETY.  "  SURGICAL       OBSERVATIONS."  — 

GROWING-     WEAKNESS. CEASELESS     ACTIVITY. LAST 

VISIT     TO     THE     HOSPITAL.  GRADUAL     APPROACH      OF 

DEATH. 

In  August,  1865,  while  at  Nahant,  Dr.  Warren  was 
prostrated  by  a  sudden  and  violent  attack  of  dysentery, 
which  excited  no  little  alarm  to  his  friends.  Though  for 
the  time  he  rallied  from  this,  his  convalescence  was  very 
slow,  and  the  results  made  serious  and  permanent  inroads 
upon  his  scanty  powers  of  reaction.  He  was,  in  fact,  in  a 
state  of  comparative  debility  till  the  ensuing  summer, 
when  in  the  same  month  another  illness  of  that  nature 
reduced  him  to  a  state  of  still  greater  invalidism.  To  his 
stomach  the  consequences  were  peculiarly  disastrous ;  and 
so  weak  did  his  digestion  become,  that  from  this  time 
to  the  end  of  his  life  his  diet  was  limited  to  small  quan- 
tities of  bread  and  meat,  and  for  the  proper  assimilation 
of  even  that  slight  nourishment  brandy  and  other  stimu- 
lants were  necessarily  taken. 

To  those  who  knew  the  pain  and  weakness  which  Dr. 
Warren  hardly  ever  ceased  to  suffer  during  the  closing 
years  of  his  life,  the  work  he  managed  to  achieve  seemed 
most  wonderful.1      Ample    evidence   thereof  still  exists 

1  This  continued  and  unflagging  application,  no  less  than  their  strength  of  will, 
■was  from  the  first  a  peculiar  feature  in  the  character  of  the  Warrens ;  and  it  was 
especially  noticeable  in  the  career  of  Dr.  John  Warren,  to  whom  Dr.  Mason  War- 
ren bore  in  certain  respects  so  decided  a  resemblance.  "  The  same  fervor,"  says 
Dr.  Thacher  in  the  biography  previously  quoted,  "  was  exhibited  in  all  his  pursuits. 


ARDUOUS   LABORS.  25 


9 


in  the  record  of  his  surgical  operations,  written  out  with 
his  own  hand  day  after  day,  month  after  month,  year 
after  year,  to  the  extent  of  hundreds  of  pages.  With 
painstaking  diligence  he  set  down  the  prominent  fea- 
tures and  characteristic  details  of  every  operation  he  per- 
formed. Many  of  these  were  striking  in  the  extreme, 
and  such  as  none  but  a  skilful  and  practised  hand  could 
accomplish.  In  contemplating  this  long  roll  of  honorable 
enterprise  one  cannot  fail  to  be  struck  with  their  vast 
number,  and  with  the  fact  that  there  is  hardly  any  por- 
tion of  the  human  body  of  which  the  surgeon  failed  to 
evince  his  intimate  knowledge.  The  various  cases  are 
stated  in  a  compact,  graphic  way,  —  the  style  of  one  who 
knew  what  he  was  about,  and  desired  to  tell  the  simple 
truth  as  honestly,  as  vividly,  and  in  as  short  a  compass  as 
was  consistent  with  thoroughness.  It  recalls  the  neat, 
curt,  and  effective  incisiveness  of  the  Doctor's  own  rapid 
hand  when  wielding  the  knife  or  the  lancet.  In  addition 
to  these  evidences  of  labor,  frequent  articles  in  the  med- 
ical and  surgical  publications  of  the  day  disclosed  an 
industry  and  activity  which  gladly  welcomed  an  outlet 
wherever  good  might  be  done  or  the  best  interests  of  his 
profession  be  advanced.  His  position  as  member  of  vari- 
ous societies  also  brought  not  a  little  hard  work  upon  his 
shoulders,  as  he  well  knew  what  his  station  demanded, 
and  did  not  wish  to  partake  of  the  honors  bestowed  upon 
him  without  performing  his  share  of  the  labor  that  might 
be  justly  called  for.     On  the  25th  of  May,  1864,1  he  cle- 

He  entered  upon  them  zealously,  and  devoted  his  whole  soul  to  their  accomplish- 
ment. He  allowed  himself  no  rest,  day  or  night,  till  he  was  satisfied  that  nothing 
in  his  power  to  perform  remained  undone.  It  was  probably  from  the  strong  inter- 
est his  pursuits  excited  that  he  acquired  in  so  eminent  a  degree  the  power  of  con- 
centrating his  faculties.  To  this  power,  joined  to  his  extensive  knowledge  and 
observation,  may  be  attributed  the  rapidity  of  his  mental  processes,  the  facility 
with  which  he  arrived  at  his  conclusions.  Hence  it  was  that  he  was  able  to  per- 
form so  much  in  a  given  time  as  to  astonish  other  men  of  even  industrious  habits." 
1  Previous  to  this  time  Dr.  Warren  had  already  written  and  published  various 
medical  and  surgical  papers  on  subjects  of  professional  interest,  several  of  them 
on  elaborate  operations  performed  by  himself,  and  all  containing  the  rich  fruits 


254  JONATHAN   MASON    WARREN. 

livered  the  annual  address  before  the  Massachusetts  Med- 
ical Society,  with  which  he  had  for  so  many  years  been 
connected  as  counsellor.  His  subject  was  "  Recent  Pro- 
gress in  Surgery,"  and  it  gave  him  the  opportunity  of 
presenting  in  a  compendious  form  the  matured  richness 
of  much  thoughtful  and  intelligent  observation.  The 
style  of  the  writer  and  the  wide  reach  of  his  informa- 
tion made  this  address  most  entertaining,  even  to  those 
outside  of  the  audience  for  whose  benefit  it  was  more  par- 
ticularly designed.  Dr.  Warren's  kindly  nature,  in  which 
was  no  taint  of  professional  jealousy,  gladly  welcomed 
this  occasion  as  a  means  of  publicly  honoring  in  terms 
of  the  warmest  eulogy  the  characteristic  excellences  and 
attainments  of  the  numerous  friends  and  colleagues  to 
whom  he  had  so  greatly  endeared  himself,  and  from 
whom  he  had  received  so  many  evidences  of  the  esteem 
in  which  they  held  him,  especially  Dr.  Jackson,  Dr. 
Henry  I.  Bowditch,  and  Dr.  Holmes.  From  the  latter  he 
received  the  following  charming  note,  acknowledging  the 
receipt  of  a  copy  of  his  address :  — 

June  6, 1864. 

My  dear  Warren,  —  Accept  my  cordial  thanks  for  the 
beautiful  "private  "  copy  of  your  Address.  I  am  not  much  of 
a  surgeon,  but  I  shall  read  what  you  have  to  say  from  your  ripe 
experience  with  great  interest.  I  see  that  you  speak  indul- 
gently of  my  somewhat  too  noted  discourse.  Be  assured  that 
the  kind  words  of  an  old  friend  always  please  an  author  more 
than  the  eulogies  of  aliens. 

I  could  not  hear  you  very  well  where  I  sat.  I  suspect  that 
my  ear-drums  may  not  be  quite  so  tightly  corded  up  as  in  the 
days  when  we  sawv  our  young  faces  in  the  Burgundy  of  the 

of  his  own  experience  and  observation.  In  1851  he  brought  out  a  pamphlet  giving 
an  account  of  "  Two  Remarkable  Indian  Dwarfs,"  by  some  called  Aztecs,  that  had 
been  exhibited  shortly  before  in  Boston.  To  the  volume  of  the  "  New  England 
Historical  and  Genealogical  Register "  for  1865  he  contributed  a  memoir  of  his 
fatlier,  written  at  the  request  of  its  editors. 

A  list  of  Dr.  Warren's  writings,  to  the  number  of  twenty-six,  is  given  in  AJli- 
bone's  "  Dictionary  of  English  Literature." 


"SUKGICAL   OBSERVATIONS."  255 

Trois  Freres.  But  Dr.  Jackson  was  near  enough  to  hear  you, 
and  paid  you  a  compliment,  at  the  expense  of  a  good  many  of 
us? — to  wit,  that  yours  was  the  only  address  he  had  ever  lis- 
tened to  without  falling  asleep. 

I  look  forward  with  much  pleasure  to  the  regilcling  of  my 
somewhat  tarnished  chirurgical  knowledge  from  the  pages 
which  hold  the  golden  results  of  your  long  and  faithful  study 
of  the  branch  which  you  have  practised  with  so  much  honor  to 
yourself  and  so  much  profit  to  the  community. 

Always  your  sincere  friend, 

O.  W.  Holmes.1 

As  a  sort  of  sequence  to  this  address,  and  that  he  might 
also  develop  and  illustrate  the  views  and  facts  contained 
therein,  Dr.  Warren  published  a  work  entitled  "  Surgical 
Observations,  with  Cases  and  Operations."  To  this  he 
had  given  much  time  and  thought  during  the  final  years 
of  his  life ;  and  the  book  was  in  reality  an  epitome  of  his 
whole  career,  embodying,  as  it  did,  the  more  important 
results  both  of  a  large  private  practice  and  of  his  twenty 
years'  experience  at  the  Hospital.  It  was  more  especially 
welcome  to  his  own  fraternity,  as  none  others  could 
thoroughly  and  critically  estimate  the  value  of  its  contents. 
In  the  preparation  of  this  volume,  which  did  not  appear 
till  nearly  three  months  before  his  death,  Dr.  Warren 
found  a  certain  indemnity  for  the  pains  he  suffered  while 
engaged  upon  it ;  and  though  he  did  not  live  long  enough 
to  realize  the  full  appreciation  bestowed  by  those  who 
read  it,  the  criticisms  that  reached  him  caused  him  much 
satisfaction,  and  sufficed  to  show  that  his  labor  had  not 
been  in  vain.     Especially  did  the  approval  of  his  pro- 

1  la  his  journal  Dr.  Warren  refers  to  this  occasion  as  follows :  "  May  25, 
1864.  —  Delivered  the  annual  address  hefore  the  Massachusetts  Medical  Society ; 
Dr.  Jackson  present,  Dr.  Ordronaux,  Brown-Sequard,  Dr.  Mauran  of  Providence, 
and  other  distinguished  men.  Got  through  much  better  than  I  expected,  con- 
sidering that  I  have  been  ill  with  a  sore  throat  for  the  last  six  weeks.  Not- 
withstanding many  omissions,  the  address  took  up  an  hour  and  ten  minutes. 
Afterwards  there  was  a  collation  at  the  Revere  House,  at  which  Dr.  H.  J.  Bigelow 
and  Governor  Andrew  made  speeches." 


256  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

fessional  brethren  serve  for  the  time  as  a  panacea  to  his 
wasting  forces,  infusing  new  vigor  into  his  frame  and 
lessening  the  terrors  of  coming  death.  The  first  copy 
that  came  to  him  he  sent  to  his  friend  Dr.  Holmes,  whose 
characteristic  note  of  thanks  might  well  have  done  its 
part  towards  lengthening  the  life  of  its  recipient.1 

At  a  meeting  of  the  Medical  Board  of  the  Hospital 
held  Feb.  23,  1866,  Dr.  Warren  resigned  his  place  as  sec- 
retary, "which  I  had  held,"  his  journal  records,  "for 
twenty  years,  having  been  originally  chosen  on  the  nomi- 
nation of  Dr.  Jacob  Bigelow.     Only  two  of  the   original 

1  At  a  special  meeting  of  the  Suffolk  District  Medical  Society,  called  three  days 
after  Dr.  Warren's  decease,  to  testify  the  respect  of  his  former  associates  for 
his  memory,  Dr,  Holmes  delivered  an  address,  of  which  a  short  extract  has  here- 
tofore been  given.  In  this  he  sought  in  feeling  language  to  portray  the  varied 
worth  of  one  whom  none  knew  better  or  more  intimately  than  himself.  To  his 
last  work  he  referred  in  terms  which  were  amply  justified  by  the  esteem  in  which 
it  was  then  and  still  is  held  :  — 

"  It  has  been  most  happy  for  Dr.  Warren's  fame  that  he  lived  to  complete  that 
noble  volume  containing  the  record  of  his  surgical  practice,  which  bears  the  date 
of  this  very  year  1867.  How  full  of  valuable  observations,  plainly  and  simply 
told, — for  he  made  no  unnecessary  show  of  words  in  telling  the  most  startling 
cases  that  came  before  him,  —  this  important  work  is,  many  of  you  know  well. 
Almost  everything  which  has  been  dared  in  surgery  is  there  set  down  from  his  own 
experience.  No  matter  what  the  gravity  of  the  case  or  the  brilliancy  of  his  suc- 
cess, whether  the  tying  of  both  carotids,  or  the  extirpation  of  the  upper  maxilla, 
or  amputation  of  the  hip-joint,  it  is  all  told  without  expletives,  without  notes  of 
admiration,  in  all  the  dignity  of  true  science,  —  told  as  the  engineer  describes  a  sec- 
tion of  the  earth,  as  the  astronomer  describes  the  transit  of  a  star.  It  would  have 
been  hard  to  part  with  such  a  man,  even  when  age  had  dimmed  his  eye  and  relaxed 
his  strength ;  it  is  very  hard  to  relinquish  him  with  so  much  seemingly  in  prospect 
for  him,  and  through  him  for  us." 

These  words  are  not  only  interesting  as  the  inspiration  of  kindly  and  candid 
esteem  for  a  friend  just  parted,  but  valuable  as  the  prompting  of  a  sense  of  merit 
in  the  mind  of  an  expert,  both  professional  and  literary,  whose  opinion  could  not 
be  lightly  regarded. 

In  June  Dr.  Warren  wrote  to  his  son,  then  in  Europe :  "  I  have  just  received  a 
letter  from  Mr.  Colles,  oFDublin,  highly  praising  my  book.  I  have  sent  one  to 
Langenbeck.  The  review  in  the  *  American  Journal  of  Medical  Science '  is  quite 
flattering.  I  have  a  plan  for  another  book,  which  I  will  tell  you  about  hereafter." 
The  book  thus  proposed  in  the  very  face  of  impending  death  is  probably  more 
fully  described  in  the  following  extract  from  Dr.  Warren's  journal:  "July  23, 
1867.— Called  on  Mr.  Eields  yesterday,  and  had  some  conversation  about  pub- 
lishing my  father's  surgical  papers,  with  additional  observations,  prefaced  by  a 
memoir  which  I  had  already  prepared  for  the  Historic  Genealogical  Society.  He 
thought  they  had  better  be  brought  out  in  the  same  style  as  my  own  book." 


FAILING   STRENGTH.  257 

board  remain  in  it,  Dr.  Henry  J.  Bigelow  and  myself." 
His  long  service  now  entitled  him,  as  the  oldest  member, 
to  the  position  of  chairman,  which  he  retained  till  his 
death.  In  the  ensuing  April  Dr.  Warren  completed  his 
term  as  president  of  the  Suffolk  District  Medical  Soci- 
ety, an  office  which  he  had  filled  since  April,  1864. 

After  the  appearance  of  his  book  Dr.  Warren's  health 
grew  obviously  worse,  and  his  feebleness  and  emaciation 
daily  appealed  more  and  more  strongly  to  the  sympathies 
of  his  friends.  He  was  seen  less  and  less  in  company ; 
and  the  last  invitation  he  accepted  was  from  Mr.  Gard- 
ner Brewer,  to  meet  Mr.  George  Peabody  at  dinner  on 
Thursday,  April  11,  1867.  Shortly  after  this  he  dis- 
played his  liberality  in  a  conspicuous  manner,  and  with 
a  generosity  highly  appreciated,  by  the  gift  of  two  thou- 
sand dollars  towards  the  new  operating-theatre  which 
was  soon  to  be  erected  for  the  use  of  the  hospital  sur- 
geons, though  he  himself,  alas !  was  never  to  behold  it. 
The  profound  attachment  felt  for  his  brother  Sullivan  has 
been  before  mentioned.  On  the  6th  of  February,  1867, 
Sullivan  died  in  spite  of  all  that  could  be  done  to  save 
him.  This  struck  on  his  sensitive  nature  with  the  force 
of  an  eternal  pain.     He  heard  the  knell  of  coming  doom, 

"  The  far-off  curfew  sound, 
Over  some  wide-watered  shore 
Swinging  slow  with  sullen  roar," 

and  carrying  conviction  to  his  heart  with  fateful  force. 
Said  his  sister,  Mrs.  Dwight :  "  The  day  before,  when 
Mason  and  I  were  together  in  the  room  next  to  that 
where  Sullivan  lay  in  a  dying  state,  I  observed,  '  This 
is  your  birthday.'  A  sort  of  shudder  passed  over  him  as 
he  answered,  '  I  hoped  nobody  would  remember  it.'  He 
never  came  out  of  the  shadow  which  his  brother's  death 
cast  upon  him.  From  that  moment  he  felt  he  was  to 
follow." 

17 


258  JONATHAN   MASON  WARREN. 

Having  for  several  months  suspected  the  existence  of 
some  serious  internal  trouble,  Dr.  Warren  desired  his  friends 
Dr.  Putnam  and  Dr.  Cabot  to  make  an  examination.  This 
was  done  in  the  month  of  May,  and  the  result1  was  a 
confirmation  of  the  fears  that  had  so  long  oppressed  him, 
and  had  of  late  assumed  a  mournful  certainty.  But 
even  this  death-sentence  was  accepted  with  silent  resig- 
nation, and  caused  no  change  in  his  bearing  or  in  his 
daily  life.  Though  dying,  he  suffered  no  unmanly  lament 
to  escape  his  lips,  nor  during  the  long  weeks  and  months 
of  slow  approach  to  the  solemn  future  did  he  betray  the 
natural  frailty  of  man  when  in  pain,  or  agitate  the  minds 
of  those  around  him  by  even  a  suggestion  of  his  and 
their  coming  sorrow.  Silent,  cheerful,  uncomplaining, 
full  of  a  gentlemanly  reserve,  he  was  content  to  follow 
his  usual  avocations  and  inflict  his  burden  upon  none  but 
himself.  No  pain,  however  intense,  extorted  any  tribute 
from  him,  nor  did  he  ever  refer  to  his  approaching  doom, 
except  on  one  occasion,  when  inborn  affection  for  those 
most  dear  to  him  wrung  from  his  lips  a  few  words  of  dis- 
tress at  their  impending  desolation.  By  the  pressure  of 
an  iron  will  he  retained  the  majesty  of  his  self-control, 
and  quickened  his  wasting  powers  with  the  indomitable 
energy  which  had  inspired  his  whole  life.  On  the  6th  of 
May,  1867,  he  presided  for  the  ninth  time  at  the  annual 
meeting  of  the  Boston  Medical  Association,  knowing  full 
well  that  this  was  the  last.  To  the  labors  of  his  pro- 
fession he  continued  faithful  to  the  end,  and  there  was  no 
sign  of  falling  away,  either  at  the  hospital  or  in  his  pri- 
vate practice.  The  lion  heart  still  held  its  own.  "Ce 
n'est  pas  la  victoire  qui  fait  le  bonheur  des  nobles 
cceurs;  c'est  le  combat,"  said  Mirabeau;  and  thus  Dr. 
Warren  felt  during  that  struggle,  dire  and  long,  while 
Death  was  ever  more  and  more  peremptorily  knocking  at 

1  This  was  the  discovery  of  a  tumor  in  the  right  iliac  region,  which  was  thought 
to  be  of  a  scirrhous  nature. 


DYING   ENERGY.  259 

the  door.  Like  Cromwell,  he  believed  that  "  a  governor 
ought  to  die  standing."  Fortunately  for  his  own  peace 
of  mind,  there  was  consolation  for  many  woes  in  this 
absorption  in  honorable  pursuits,  in  this  steady  progress 
along  the  path  of  duty.  Never  during  his  past  career 
had  he  performed  a  greater  number  of  operations  within 
a  similar  space  of  time,  or  those  requiring  more  skill  or 
labor,  than  the  work  of  his  closing  weeks.  "  Le  repos, 
c'est  la  mort,"  said  Dupuytren,  when  urged  to  cease  for 
a  time  those  labors  which  were  so  rapidly  wearing  him  out. 
And  so  it  was  with  Dr.  Warren.  No  token  was  there 
of  failing  strength,  dexterity,  or  enthusiasm.  Under  date 
of  June  6,  1867,  one  reads  in  his  journal :  "During  the 
day  I  had  patients  from  every  quarter,  and  prescribed 
for  more  at  the  house  than  I  remember  ever  to  have 
done  before."  June  29  he  wrote  :  "During  the  last  four 
months  I  have  performed  ninety  operations  at  the  hospi- 
tal, and  about  thirty  in  private  practice.  There  have 
been  about  two  hundred  operations  at  the  hospital  by  all 
the  surgeons." 

On  the  first  day  of  July  he  received  his  twenty-first  ap- 
pointment at  the  hospital,  and  on  that  day  he  paid  the 
institution  his  last  official  visit.  He  had  now  been  for 
nearly  five  years  the  head  of  its  professional  staff.  He 
was  then  suffering  so  acutely  from  pain  and  weakness  as 
scarcely  to  be  able  to  walk.  Directly  after  this  he  went 
to  Nahant  for  his  annual  summer  sojourn,  to  which,  though 
aware  of  his  sad  condition,  he  had  looked  forward  as  prom- 
ising at  least  a  temporary  alleviation  of  his  sufferings.  He 
continued,  however,  to  return  to  Boston,  and  to  his  private 
practice  each  day  in  the  steamboat,  where  his  spirits  still 
rallied  round  him  a  host  of  friends  and  admirers,  who 
were  charmed  by  his  humor  and  his  rich  and  luxuriant 
powers  of  description.  In  these  respects  he  never  flagged. 
To  the  end  he  was  a  raconteur  of  the  first  lustre.  This 
movement  to  and  fro  could  not  long  be  borne,  unhappily, 


260  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

and  his  forces  gradually  ceased  to  be  equal  to  the  ex- 
ertion. In  the  train  of  growing  debility  came  a  still 
increasing  pallor  that  daily  blanched  his  cheeks  to  a 
whiter  hue,  till  they  at  length  were  almost  perfectly 
colorless.  Never  were  hearts  more  sorely  wrung  than 
those  of  the  friends  who  saw  death  in  his  features  as  he 
moved  among  them,  and  yet  were  powerless  to  help. 
"  We  all  pitied  him,"  said  one,  "  because  we  more  than 
respected  him."  Never  were  sufferings  more  widely  or 
deeply  lamented  than  his ;  and  could  unstinted  sympathy 
have  saved  him,  these  pages  had  as  yet  been  unwritten. 
Nervously  conscious  of  his  aspect  and  unwilling  to  cause 
even  this  anxiety  to  those  about  him,  he  sought  to  hide 
or  at  least  to  mitigate  it  by  fishing  for  hours  in  the  broil- 
ing sun  on  the  rocks  at  Nahant,  that  he  might  thus  ac- 
quire a  browner  and  more  healthy  hue.  On  the  18th  of 
July  Dr.  "Warren  was  seized  with  a  chill,  of  which  he 
well  understood  the  meaning.  Tranquilly  accepting  it  as 
a  foretaste  of  quick-coming  fate,  he  returned  to  Boston, 
taking  a  last  and  sad  farewell  of  that  home  by  the  sea 
which  years  of  enjoyment  had  made  so  unspeakably  dear 
to  him.  On  the  26th  of  that  month  a  telegram  was  sent 
to  his  son,  urging  his  speedy  return  home.  It  reached 
him  at  Munich,  and  he  left  for  Liverpool  on  the  same  clay. 
Landing  in  New  York  on  the  14th  of  August,  he  speedily 
made  his  way  to  his  father's  side.  Too  feeble  and  too 
overcome  for  the  moment  to  speak,  Dr.  Warren  could 
only  extend  his  arms  with  an  affectionate  and  fervent 
welcome  which  no  words  could  deepen.  Sad  as  was  the 
darkness  that  was  now  gathering  around  him,  there  was 
peace  and  assurance,  as  of  coming  dawn,  in  his  face  when 
he  recognized  the  presence  of  one  who  would  dutifully 
receive  the  expiring  lamp  which  was  so  soon  to  pass  from 
his  own  hand. 

With  increasing  strength  he  found  words  to  express  his 
delight  at  his  son's  return  so  opportunely,  which  he  re- 


LAST   HOURS.  261 

garded  as  little  short  of  miraculous,  —  a  pleasing  illusion 
which  it  was  thought  best  not  to  disturb,  his  friends  hav- 
ing designedly  kept  him  in  ignorance  of  the  summons 
that  had  been  sent,  and  being  quite  willing  that  he  should 
regard  his  son's  arrival  as  the  result  of  a  natural  desire  to 
employ  his  summer  vacation  in  a  visit  to  his  home.  The 
father  was  destined  to  survive  yet  a  few  days  longer, 
though  with  steadily  failing  faculties.  His  mind  was  clear 
almost  to  the  last.  Feeble  as  he  was,  he  disdained  to 
surrender,  even  to  inexorable  death,  any  of  the  proprie- 
ties with  which  during  his  life  he  had  never  ceased  to 
surround  himself.  Of  these  he  ever  possessed  an  ex- 
quisite and  clinging  sense.  He  was  resolved  to  die  as 
a  gentleman,  with  no  falling  off  in  the  appointments  of  a 
life  till  then  so  well  rounded  out.  To  a  gentleman  much 
was  due,  and  he  had  a  wide  appreciation  of  all  that  could 
justly  be  claimed  by  one  who  knew  in  his  heart  of  hearts 
that  he  had  a  right  to  the  title.  He  liked  to  hear  music 
softly  and  continually  played  on  the  piano.  From  time 
to  time  his  children  were  brought  to  him  from  Nahant, 
and  at  his  request  always  gayly  dressed  in  their  best  and 
prettiest.  Till  within  two  days  of  his  death,  he  never 
failed  to  take  his  customary  bath.  As  to  his  food,  though 
he  could  eat  little  or  nothing,  he  always  observed  the 
ordinary  routine  of  three  meals  and  a  cup  of  tea.  Weak 
as  he  was,  he  would  compel  exhausted  Nature  to  take  one 
spoonful  of  soup,  and  pay  at  least  this  tribute  to  the  con- 
ventionalities of  refinement  and  propriety.  Not  Chester- 
field himself  could  have  retired  with  more  becoming  grace 
from  the  halls  of  Life  that  he  had  so  adorned ;  nor  Chatham 
have  moved  with  serener  composure  towards  the  en- 
trance to  the  court  of  Death. 

On  Monday  the  19th  of  August,  at  five  minutes  before 
eleven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  his  sufferings  ended  and  he 
ceased  to  breathe.  A  mighty  calmness  crept  over  his  face, 
and  he  rested  forever  from  the  joys,  the  sorrows,  and  the 


262  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN". 

triumphs  of  life.  He  died  surrounded  by  his  family,  whom 
he  rallied  sufficiently  to  recognize  only  three  hours  before 
his  decease.  On  the  following  Thursday  there  were 
services  at  his  late  residence,  under  the  care  of  his 
brother-in-law,  the  Eev.  William  Mountford,  after  which 
the  remains  were  taken  to  the  church  of  St.  Paul's,  of 
which  Dr.  Warren  had  for  so  many  years  been  a  commu- 
nicant, as  was  his  father  before  him.  Its  rector,  Dr. 
Nicholson,  and  the  Eev.  Copley  Greene  together  minis- 
tered at  that  sweet  and  solemn  farewell  with  which  the 
Episcopal  Church  accompanies  its  members  to  the  verge 
of  eternity,  and  invokes  for  them  the  blessing  promised 
of  old  to  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord.  Rarely  has  the 
majestic,  reverent,  and  inspiring  eloquence  of  its  burial 
service  been  more  befittingly  read  or  responded  to  with 
a  more  cordial  and  sincere  amen  than  by  the  multitude 
that  thronged  the  edifice.  From  St.  Paul's  the  body  was 
transported  to  the  lot  at  Forest  Hills,  where  it  now  re- 
poses with  the  ashes  of  his  father  and  of  the  other  mem- 
bers of  his  family  who  had  gone  before  him. 

"  Death,  with  his  healing  hand, 

Shall  once  more  knit  the  band 
Which  needs  but  that  one  link  which  none  may  sever; 

Till,  through  the  only  Good, 

Heard,  felt,  and  understood, 
Their  life  in  God  hath  made  them  one  forever." 

To  those  who  were  left  to  bewail  his  loss  he  bequeathed 
a  name  and  fame  that  might  well  have  done  much  to 
arrest  the  tears  which  affection  must  offer  to  those  who 
have  worthily  lived  and  died.  Cut  off  at  an  age  too  early 
for  the  interests  of  his  profession  and  of  the  society  which 
he  had  so  greatly  adorned,  deeply  conscious  that  the 
possibilities  of  his  future  far  exceeded  the  achievements 
of  the  past,  he  yet  yielded  with  calmness  to  the  approach 
of  death,  feeling  it  incumbent  upon  him  to  do  nothing 
weak,  or  which  might  tarnish  the  fairness  of  that  vesture 


THE   LESSON"   OF   A   NOBLE   LIFE.  263 

which  had  come  to  him  from  men  whose  lives  had  in- 
spired his  own  and  which  they  had  worn  with  such  a 
daily  beauty.  The  shadows  of  approaching  mortality 
were  illuminated  not  only  by  the  brightness  of  dawning 
heaven,  but  by  the  consciousness  of  good  desert,  of  a  life 
consecrated  to  noble  aims,  and  of  an  ever-abiding  desire 
to  do  nothing  that  might  be  called  unbecoming  a  gentle- 
man and  a  Christian,  or  cause  one  pang  in  the  hearts  of 
his  friends. 

"  He  was  the  soul  of  goodness; 
And  all  our  praises  of  him  are  like  streams, 
Drawn  from  a  spring,  that  still  rise  full  and  leave 
The  part  remaining  greatest." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

CONNECTION    WITH     VARIOUS     SOCIETIES.  —  TRIBUTES     OF 

RESPECT.  RESOLUTIONS      OF     THE     PHYSICIANS     AND 

SURGEONS     OF     THE     MASSACHUSETTS     GENERAL     HOSPI- 
TAL.   LETTER   FROM    DR.    HENRY   I.    BOWDITCH. 

As  might  naturally  have  been  inferred  from  the  honor 
and  esteem  with  which  he  was  regarded,  Dr.  Warren  was 
in  various  forms  connected  with  many  societies  and  insti- 
tutions. From  February,  1846,  he  was  one  of  the  six 
visiting  surgeons  of  the  Massachusetts  General  Hospital. 
He  was  also  secretary  of  the  Medical  Board  at  the  same 
institution,  and  perpetual  secretary  of  the  Boylston  Prize 
Committee  from  his  election  in  1850.  He  was  president 
of  the  Boylston  Medical  Society,  and  of  the  Suffolk 
Medical  District  Society.  On  the  30th  of  October,  1866, 
he  was  elected  president  of  the  Massachusetts  Medical 
Benevolent  Society,  and  from  the  death  of  his  father  in 
1856  he  served  as  president  of  the  Thursday  Evening 
Club  till  his  own  decease,  and  likewise  of  the  Warren 
Museum  of  Natural  History.  He  was  a  councillor  of 
the  Massachusetts  Medical  Society;  a  fellow  of  the 
American  Medical  Association ;  a  trustee  of  the  Humane 
Society  and  of  the  "Lying-in  Hospital ;  one  of  the  stand- 
ing committee  of  the  Cincinnati,  and  of  the  committee 
for  visiting  the  Medical  School.  In  1849  he  became  a 
fellow  of  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  Society  of  Harvard  Col- 
lege. During  the  War  of  the  Rebellion  he  was  one  of 
the  Board  of  Medical  Examiners  for  the  Commonwealth. 


RESOLUTIONS  OF  RESPECT.  265 

He  was  a  director  of  the  Bunker  Hill  Monument  Associa- 
tion, a  member  of  the  Boston  Society  of  Natural  History, 
and  a  fellow  of  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sci- 
ences. He  was  one  of  the  prudential  committee  of  the 
Boston  Society  of  Medical  Improvement,  and  an  hon- 
orary fellow  of  the  New  York  Medical  Society,  a  member 
of  the  Medical  Society  of  the  State  of  New  York,  and  a 
fellow  of  the  Trustees  of  the  College  of  Physicians  and 
Surgeons  of  the  University  of  the  State  of  New  York. 

The  universal  feeling  of  regret  for  Dr.  Warren's  loss 
naturally  found  expression  in  numberless  resolutions 
passed  by  the  societies  of  which  he  was  a  member.  Of 
these  there  is  space  in  this  memoir  for  but  one  series ; 
and  for  the  insertion  of  these  it  is  trusted  that  a  sufficient 
excuse  will  be  found  —  if  any  be  needed  —  in  the  impor- 
tant position  of  the  body  that  adopted  them,  in  the  length 
and  intimacy  of  the  relation  of  its  members  with  the 
deceased,  and  in  their  minute  delineation  of  his  character 
as  a  man  and  a  surgeon. 

At  the  regular  quarterly  meeting  of  the  physicians  and 
surgeons  of  the  Massachusetts  General  Hospital,  held  at 
the  house  of  Dr.  H.  J.  Bigelow  on  the  26th  inst.,  Dr. 
Henry  J.  Bigelow,  the  chairman,  offered  the  following 
resolutions,  which  were  unanimously  adopted  :  — 

"  Resolved,  That  the  members  of  this  Board  are  deeply  sen- 
sible of  the  loss  they  have  sustained  in  the  death  of  their  late 
associate  Dr.  J.  Mason  Warren,  in  the  maturity  of  his  faculties 
and  usefulness. 

"  Occupying  an  enviable  position  at  his  entrance  upon  profes- 
sional life,  he  carefully  cherished  both  his  personal  and  heredi- 
tary reputation,  and  did  honor  to  a  name  already  illustrious. 
From  the  outset  he  surrendered  himself  to  his  favorite  pursuit 
with  a  zeal  so  exclusive  that  everything  connected  with  it 
seemed  to  assume,  in  his  view,  an  importance  sometimes  par- 
taking almost  of  exaggeration.  For  more  than  twenty  years 
the  Massachusetts  General  Hospital  reaped  the  benefit  of  this 


266  JONATHAN   MASON"   WARREN. 

concentrated  professional  devotion,  which  the  illness  of  the  last 
year  or  two  of  his  life  hardly  abated ;  and  remembering  that  he 
undertook  no  duty  that  he  did  not  perform  with  conscientious 
exactness,  this  Board  recognizes  the  extent  of  its  obligation  to 
him,  both  in  the  value  of  his  daily  services  and  in  the  reputa- 
tion he  has  added  to  the  institution  of  which  his  father  was  a 
founder.  He  was  an  accomplished  surgeon,  and  brought  to  the 
deliberations  of  his  colleagues  an  inherited  and  prompt  decision, 
not  the  result  merely  of  strong  conviction,  but  tempered  and 
guided  by  a  mind  instinctively  logical  as  to  the  recurring  facts 
of  everjr-day  surgical  practice  ;  based  on  a  breadth  of  view  such 
as  long  experience  only  can  give,  and  comprehending  not  merely 
the  material  pathology,  but  the  mental  condition  and  the  sur- 
rounding circumstances  of  the  sufferer.  He  devised  new  and 
valuable  operative  methods,  of  which  the  free  dissection  in  the 
case  of  cleft  palate  was  perhaps  the  most  important ;  although, 
in  omitting  to  specify  with  anatomical  detail  the  parts  divided, 
he  enabled  a  foreign  surgeon  to  lay  doubtful  claim  to  an  opera- 
tion which  he  had  himself  really  devised  and  first  successfully 
performed. 

"  In  surgery  life  often  hangs  upon  the  difficult  decision  what 
it  is  best  to  do.  To  do  it  afterwards  is  comparatively  easy.  As 
a  good  executive  surgeon,  possessing  most  of  the  lesser  and 
more  common  attributes  of  modern  surgical  excellence,  Dr. 
"Warren  was  a  cool  and  skilful  operator,  and  possessed  a  desira- 
ble boldness  or  confidence  so  far  that  no  timidity  or  hesitancy 
ever  warped  his  judgment  away  from  an  operation  of  serious  or 
critical  character.  Yet  he  was  neither  bold  nor  cool  from  any 
constitutional  indifference  or  insensibility  to  giving  pain ;  nor 
was  he  ever  led  into  an  operation  hastily  or  indiscreetly  by  an 
undue  desire  for  novelty  or  notoriety.  Indeed,  the  extent  of 
his  surgical  practice  placed  him  beyond  the  reach  of  influences 
like  these.  But  to  a  surgeon,  his  superiority  was  in  his  sound 
judgment  and  his  great  experience,  —  higher  and  rarer  qualities 
than  that  mere  mechanical  dexterity  in  operating  which  in  the 
ruder  days  of  science  was  identified  with  it,  as  it  is  now  often 
by  the  public  at  large  and  sometimes  even  by  physicians. 

"  We  cannot  forget  his  gentle  and  high-bred  courtesy  of 
manner,  never  obsequious,  nor  in  his  case  incompatible  with  a 
keen  relish  for  social  enjoyment ;  of  late  years  combined  with 


HOSPITAL    RESOLYES.  267 

somewhat  less  reserve,  perhaps,  than  formerly,  but  always  dif- 
fusing a  genial  influence,  and  gathering  dignity  from  the  purity 
of  his  character  and  the  gentlemanlike  quality  of  his  senti- 
ments. At  the  occasional  discussions  of  his  colleagues  he  did 
not  shrink  from  a  necessary  expression  of  opinion ;  but  he 
never  expressed  uncalled-for  dissent,  and  often  disarmed  or 
qualified  the  opposition  of  those  who  differed  from  him  by  his 
uniform  and  manly  urbanity.  Those  who  were  in  frequent 
professional  relations  with  him  for  many  years  will  find  it  diffi- 
cult to  remember  a  word  of  disparagement  or  even  criticism  of 
his  professional  brethren,  while  it  is  easy  to  recall  his  earnest 
advocacy  of  the  claims  of  those  allied  to  him  by  ties  of  friend- 
ship or  obligation.  His  interest  in  our  own  Board  always  con- 
tinued ;  and  when,  at  its  last  meeting  at  his  house,  only  a  few 
months  ago,  he  said  that  while  he  lived  he  should  be  always 
happy  to  see  us  assembled  there,  he  —  though  he  alone  of  all 
those  present —  must  have  known  that  his  mortal  illness  was 
upon  him.  Skilful  in  his  calling  and  wise  in  counsel,  he  ex- 
erted by  his  social  position,  his  fine  temper,  his  breeding  and 
the  elevated  tone  of  his  mind,  an  influence  in  our  Board  and  in 
our  profession  here,  the  loss  of  which  will  be  long  and  pro- 
foundly felt. 

"  Resolved,  That  we  recognize  in  our  late  colleague  many  of 
the  attributes  of  a  practitioner  which  are  of  greatest  value  to 
the  community. 

"  In  practice  he  was  conservative  and  cautious,  not  prejudiced 
against  novelty ;  on  the  contrary,  quite  ready  enough  to  give  it 
attention,  but  with  sagacious  discrimination ;  open  to  convic- 
tion as  well  against  as  for  it ;  and  in  his  relations  with  others, 
guiding  unsteady  minds,  both  of  educated  and  uneducated  per- 
sons, among  the  ever-intruding  new  and  futile  remedies,  the 
unprofitable  or  pernicious  expedients  and  advice,  with  which 
the  path  especially  of  the  surgical  sufferer  is  too  often  beset. 

"  But  |he  measure  of  a  usefulness  to  which  his  health  alone 
set  the  limit  was  dependent  upon  qualities  as  well  of  the  heart 
as  of  the  head.  The  welfare  of  those  with  whom  he  dealt  pro- 
fessionally seemed  ever  to  preoccupy  his  mind.  He  visited 
them  so  cheerfully  and  assiduously,  both  at  the  hospital  and 
elsewhere,  even  long  after  his  disease  had  seriously  impaired  his 
strength  and  rendered  all  bodily  exertion  painfully  laborious, 


268  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

that  one  could  not  but  pause  and  admire  the  courage  and  spirit 
which  sustained  him.  If,  during  his  active  life,  he  had  secured 
the  confidence  of  his  patients  by  his  fidelity  and  by  a  decision  of 
character  which  betrayed  no  doubt,  he  did  more  in  winning 
their  attachment  by  his  unremitting  kindness  and  attention,  his 
discriminating  perception  of  their  character  and  wants,  by  his 
social  qualities,  his  cordiality,  and  by  the  many  traits  which 
assured  to  him  also  a  devoted  affection  in  the  nearer  and  nar- 
rower relations  of  his  home." 

These  sentiments  awakened  many  a  responsive  echo 
even  from  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  where  Dr. 
Warren  had  created  a  permanent  respect  for  his  talents 
and  acquirements.  In  the  "  Dublin  Quarterly  Journal" 
for  November,  1867.  one  reads:  "America  has  lost  in 
him  one  of  her  ablest  sons,  one  whose  reputation  had 
long  since  reached  these  shores,  as  an  earnest  worker 
and  most  successful  surgeon.  This  year  has  cost  us 
many  who  stood  in  the  position  of  well-nigh  personal 
friends." 1 

The  following  tender  and  appreciative  remembrance  of 
Dr.  Warren  from  his  life-long  friend  Dr.  Henry  I.  Bow- 
ditch,  from  which  a  short  extract  has  been  already  given, 
needs  not  to  be  commended  to  any  of  the  readers  of  this 
memoir  in  order  to  insure  its  perusal.  Interesting  in 
itself,  it  will  bear  an  added  grace  and  meaning  in  the 
minds  of  those  who  are  aware  how  early  the  intimacy 
between  these  two  eminent  men  began.  It  was  an  inti- 
macy which  gradually  grew  from  small  beginnings  and 
at  length  deepened  into  mutual  affection,  as  each  realized 
the  other's  sterling  merits  and  the  profound  stability  of 
that  broad  basis  on  which  their  attachment  actually  rested. 

1  The  summer  of  1867  was  sadly  memorable  in  the  medical  and  surgical  pro- 
fessions. Reference  has  heretofore  been  made  to  the  death  of  Velpeau  in  August 
of  that  year,  while  the  preceding  June  had  already  witnessed  the  decease  of  the 
illustrious  Civiale,  the  inventor  of  lithotrity ;  of  Trousseau,  the  eminent  physician 
and  rival  in  fame  of  Velpeau ;  of  Sir  William  Lawrence,  and  of  other  luminaries 
only  less  brilliant.     In  August  Dr.  James  Jackson  also  passed  from  earth. 


LETTER   FROM   DR.    BOWDITCH.  269 

Death  might  sunder  the  tie  that  bound  them  together, 
but  neither  death  nor  time  can  ever  extinguish  in  the 
mind  of  the  survivor  the  sweet  savor  of  its  invigorating 
memory,  — 

"  When  memory 
Is  all  that  can  remain  — 
The  Indian  summer  of  the  soul, 
That  kindly  comes  again  — 
Reviving  with  its  souvenirs 
The  loves  and  hopes  of  early  years." 

Dear  Sir,  —  I  regret  that  I  promised  to  write  to  you  about 
my  excellent  friend  Dr.  J.  Mason  Warren.  Not  that  I  would 
not  desire  to  express  my  warmest  admiration  of  him  as  a  man 
and  as  a  professional  associate,  but  because,  although  I  knew 
and  really  loved  him  for  many  years,  I  have  no  incidents  to 
relate  which  will  materially  aid  his  biographer. 

Mason's  life  —  all  who  knew  him  called  him  familiarly  by  his 
middle  name  —  was,  comparatively  speaking,  uneventful.  He 
never  thrust  himself  forward.  He  was  satisfied  with  doing  the 
daily  round  of  duty  and  of  courtesy,  and  the  courteous  gentle- 
man performed  these  offices  well. 

I  was  in  Paris  with  him.  We  occupied  adjacent  rooms  at  the 
Hotel  de  l'Odeon,  Place  de  l'Odeon,  for  nearly  a  year.  But 
our  lines  of  study  lay  in  entirely  different  fields.  I  followed 
Louis  and  Andral  and  Chomel  in  medicine  ;  he  sought  instruc- 
tion in  surgery  at  the  feet  of  Dupuytren,  Lisfranc,  Velpeau, 
and  Roux,  whose  cliniques  I  never  attended  because  it  seemed 
a  waste  of  time  for  me  to  do  so.  But  to  Mason  Warren,  who 
was  destined  to  ably  fill  the  places  of  his  grandfather  and  father 
in  surgery,  these  great  Paris  surgeons  were  of  incalculable 
advantage.  Moreover,  as  I  was  desirous  of  learning  to  speak 
French  as  soon  and  as  thoroughly  as  possible,  I  kept  aloof  to 
a  certain  degree  from  all  Americans,  and  took  my  meals  with 
French  and  Swiss  medical  and  law  students. 

The  result  of  these  arrangements  was  that  though  living 
near  him  I  rarely  saw  Mason,  save  when  we  accidentally  met  as 
neighbors.  What  I  did  know  of  him  was  always  agreeable  and 
of  excellent  tone,  if  I  may  so  speak.  No  one  ever  heard  aught 
against  him.  On  the  contrary,  the  record  of  his  life,  as  written 
in  the  minds  of  all  of  us,  was  that  of  a  pure-minded,  earnest 


270  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

youth,  devoted  to  the  high  purpose  of  a  thorough  surgical  edu- 
cation. This  was  in  1832  and  1833  ;  and  of  all  those  Americans 
who  were  students  with  us,  the  memory  of  no  one  is  sweeter 
than  that  I  have  of  him. 

After  our  return  home  we  went  on  together  always  harmoni- 
ously, and  in  Mason's  skill  as  a  surgeon  I  had  unbounded  confi- 
dence after  the  following  incident. 

I  had  a  very  severe  case  of  croup, — a  child  of  one  of  my 
most  intimate  friends.  An  operation  was  needed,  and  as  a  mat- 
ter of  course  I  called  upon  Mason's  father,  Dr.  John  C.  Warren, 
whom  I  had  always  looked  upon  as  equal,  if  not  superior,  to  any 
surgeon  I  had  met,  not  only  in  America  but  in  Europe.  I  sup- 
posed that,  as  I  had  requested,  he  would  operate ;  and  to  my 
astonishment,  not  to  use  a  stronger  term,  I  saw  the  father,  after 
making  all  arrangements  for  the  operation,  and  without  a  single 
word  of  counsel  from  me,  resign  the  scalpel  into  the  hands  of 
my  young  friend.  It  was  too  late  to  protest,  and  I  simply 
thought  within  myself,  "  I  put  the  responsibility  on  you,  sir ; 
and  there  it  rests,  even  if  you  operate  through  the  hands  of 
another."  But  my  satisfaction  was  more  than  I  can  express 
when  I  observed  the  skill  of  hand  and  perfect  self-possession  of 
Mason.     His  father  knew  to  whom  he  could  trust. 

For  myself  I  always,  after  that  incident,  called  upon  the 
junior,  and  he  never  failed  to  come  up  to  my  idea  of  the  perfect 
surgeon. 

Mason,  I  think,  had  another  quality  which  is  too  often  want- 
ing in  men  skilled  in  any  department ;  namely,  a  power  of  look- 
ing at  dispassionately  and  deciding  with  fairness  upon  ideas  and 
plans  of  action  differing  from  those  usually  employed  by  himself 
and  by  other  professional  men,  and  to  which,  in  fact,  the  general 
rules  of  our  art  were  opposed. 

I  experienced  his  kindly  courtesy  and  his  willingness  to 
inquire  into  a  new  subject  very  soon  after  I  began  operating 
upon  the  chest  for  removal  of  fluid  therefrom  by  means  of  the 
delicate  instrument  suggested  by  Dr.  Morrill  Wyman.  I  knew 
that  surgery  did  not  uphold  me,  and  I  knew  also  that  the  usual 
operation  for  thoracentesis,  as  performed  by  surgeons,  would 
not  answer  my  purpose,  which  was  to  get  fluid  from  the  chest 
by  a  simple,  comparatively  easy  and  innocent  process,  instead 
of  the  bloody  operation  by  scalpel. 


LETTEK   FEOM   DR.  BOWDITCH.  271 

Mason  had  seen  this  latter  operation  done  by  his  father  on 
one  of  my  patients  at  the  hospital.  When  I  commenced  ope- 
rating, Mason,  as  I  have  stated,  treated  my  suggestion  with 
candor,  and  asked  to  be  allowed  to  see  me  do  it.  I  was  no 
surgeon  ;  but  I  felt  compelled  to  operate,  because  the  surgeons, 
except  Dr.  Wyman,  opposed  the  plan.  Mason,  I  may  say,  was 
the  only  professed  surgeon  who  at  first  after  seeing  the  process 
heartily  sustained  it,  instead  of  ridiculing  or  ignoring  it,  as  the 
chief  surgeons  of  that  day  did.  They  all  use  Wyman's  method 
now  at  first,  though  in  chronic  cases  they  use  the  scalpel. 

I  felt  very  grateful  to  Mason.  I  mention  the  fact  simply  to 
illustrate  a  trait  in  his  character.  It  showed  alike  his  kindness 
of  heart  and  also  his  ability  to  look  at  more  sides  than  one  of 
any  question. 

During  his  long  illness  we  all  pitied  him  because  we  more 
than  respected  him. 

I  look  back  now  with  poignant  regret  at  the  thought  that 
what  I  supposed  was  the  result  of  a  partial  weakness  of  mind 
and  of  hypochondriasis  was  in  reality  only  a  desire  to  save 
himself  from  excruciating  pains  incident  to  that  fatal  complaint 
which  finally  caused  his  death  after  years  of  suffering. 

I  am  sorry  that  I  cannot  give  you  anything  of  real  value ;  but 
perhaps  what  I  have  written  may  suggest  a  thought  or  two  to 
aid  you  in  your  undertaking.  If  in  any  way  I  can  further  aid 
you  by  conversation,  I  shall  be  happy  to  do  so.  A  talk  upon 
Mason  Warren's  life,  and  of  his  many  gentle  and  excellent 
Equalities,  would  always  suggest  to  me  pleasant  and  kindly 
thoughts,  although  perhaps  at  times  accompanied  with  pain 
at  the  remembrance  of  his  persistent  suffering  and  ill-health. 
I  remain  respectfully  yours, 

Henry  I.  Bowditch. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

DR.  WARREN'S   CHARACTEEISTIC   TEA1TS.  —  HIS  HIGH  IDEAL. 

PROFESSIONAL   RELATIONS. PECULIAR  MERITS   BOTH 

AS  SURGEON  AND  PHYSICIAN.  —  AT  THE  HOSPITAL. — 
TREATMENT  OF  HIS  PATIENTS  AND  THEIR  ATTACHMENT 
TO    HIM. TENDERNESS    OF   HEART. 

The  numerous  friends,  professional  and  other,  whom 
Dr.  Warren  gathered  about  him  during  his  successful 
career,  ever  recognized,  and  the  world  at  large  gladly 
acknowledged,  those  sterling  virtues  with  which  he  was 
so  richly  endowed.  In  life  he  ever  stood  prominently 
before  them  as  the  model  of  a  manly  character.  Born 
under  the  smiles  of  fortune ;  enjoying  the  prestige  of 
long-descended  repute,  ample  talents,  wealth,  and  social 
position,  he  regarded  all  these  but  as  means  to  an  end, 
and  that  a  worthy  one.  They  were  but  incentives  to  a 
noble  goal,  a  goal  of  grander  proportions  and  more  diffi- 
cult attainment  from  his  own  sense  of  responsibility  for 
all  the  advantages  he  had  inherited.  His  ideal  was  the 
natural  offspring  of  his  character,  and  he  never  forgot  that 
all  the  more  was  expected  of  him  from  the  very  fact 
that  fate  had  placed  him  on  a  higher  pedestal  than  others. 
His  love  for  his  profession  was  such  as  neither  furious 
tempests  nor  soft  seductions  could  quench ;  and  it  quick- 
ened and  inspired  his  life  to  the  end  with  an  enthusiasm 
which  triumphed  over  failing  health,  acute  pain,  and  a 
growing  weakness  that  daily  brought  him  nearer  and 
nearer  to  inevitable  death. 

His  energy  with  all  its  fervor  was  guided  to  great  re- 
sults by  a  judgment  that  was  ever  sound,  penetrating,  and 


MENTAL    GEASP.  273 

broad  in  its  grasp  of  facts.  His  mind  took  in  everything 
essential  at  a  glance,  and  flashed  through  a  rapid  and 
shrewd  analysis  of  the  conditions  displayed  before  him. 
Hardly  any  aspect  of  mental  or  bodily  defect  was  hidden 
from  his  insight.  Widely  ranging,  his  intellectual  vision 
saw  every  detail ;  and  he  quietly  planned  the  future,  like  a 
general  overlooking  the  field  where  glory  is  to  be  reaped 
on  the  morrow.  With  him  no  seed  failed  to  germinate. 
But  few  years  of  active  labor  were  needed  to  enrich  him 
with  a  depth  of  experience  which  brought  forth  fruit  an 
hundred  fold,  and  ripened  his  judgment  till  it  achieved 
notable  effects  from  afar,  and  obstacles  of  forbidding  mien 
bowed  to  the  maturity  of  a  perception  almost  unerring.1 
Though  confidently  relying  upon  the  past,  he  was  provi- 
dent of  the  future,  and  had  ever  ready  abundant  resources 
against  that  pressure  of  events  which  none  can  foresee, 
and  those  possible  disasters  from  which  few  are  exempt. 
Even  when  aware  of  an  impending  crisis,  the  cool  com- 
mand of  self  for  which  he  was  so  noted  did  not  waver; 
and  this  calmness  in  extremity  of  itself  did  much  to  en- 
courage those  who  had  good  reason  to  prepare  for  death. 

It  can  be  truly  said  of  Dr.  Warren  that  he  never  sought 
to  advance  himself  by  any  adventitious  aids,  nor  did  he 
need  them.  Though  quite  willing  in  his  own  way  to  ap- 
pear in  certain  contrasts  with  the  rest  of  the  fraternity, 
he  disdained  to  employ  for  this  purpose  any  unbecoming 
arts.  Naturally  responsive  to  high-minded  impulses,  he 
rejected  with  light  scorn  whatever  failed  to  reach  the 
height  of  his  ideal.  All  external  wiles  he  could  afford  to 
ignore,  as  he  did  every  form  of  eccentricity,  or  of  coldly 
calculating  pretence  to  that  which  was  not.     Prompt  to 

1  This  is  mentioned  by  Dr.  Bowditch  in  the  letter  before  quoted:  "Mason,  I 
think,  had  another  quality  which  is  too  often  wanting  in  men  skilled  in  any  depart- 
ment ;  namely,  a  power  of  looking  at  dispassionately  and  deciding  with  fairness  upon 
ideas  and  plans  of  action  differing  from  those  usually  employed  by  himself  and  by 
other  professional  men,  and  to  which,  in  fact,  the  general  rules  of  our  art  were 
opposed." 

18 


274  JONATHAN   MASON   WAKREN. 

assert  such  rights  as  were  properly  his,  he  never  at- 
tempted to  challenge  the  popular  esteem  by  proclama- 
tion of  his  own  merits,  by  flippant  innuendoes,  or  jealous 
depreciation  of  his  brethren,  such  as  the  leaders  of  the 
faculty  in  France  were  wont  to  employ.  In  his  strong, 
compact,  and  vigorous  nature  there  was  no  room  for  petty 
meannesses.  Open  as  the  day,  with  nothing  to  conceal, 
with  no  dark  background  of  ignoble  mystery  or  unmean- 
ing artifice,  candid  and  bold,  he  was  a  man  to  live  with 
and  find  no  taint.  No  undue  pride  tarnished  the  success 
that  so  early  attended  him.  He  sought  to  rule  solely  by 
his  own  desert  and  by  gentle  influences,  as  one  to  whom 
all  harshness  or  dictation  was  repulsive  in  the  extreme. 
Singularly  accessible,  though  screened  from  undue  famil- 
iarity by  a  self-respecting  reserve  which  was  one  of  his 
peculiar  attributes,  from  the  very  first  he  made  himself 
beloved  by  every  member  of  his  profession,  both  old  and 
young.  To  the  former  he  was  deferential  and  concilia- 
tory ;  to  the  latter  invariably  helpful,  omitting  no  oppor- 
tunity to  gain  their  confidence  and  show  the  real  depth 
of  his  friendly  interest.  To  them  he  seemed  a  very  prince 
among  surgeons,  and  none  the  less  that  his  courteous  man- 
ners and  easy  good-breeding  did  much  towards  toning 
down  their  often  inborn  roughness.  Of  rising  talent 
he  displayed  no  envy,  nor  was  he  capable  of  feeling  it. 
Fresh  and  ardent  aspirants  in  his  profession  were  cordially 
cheered  by  well-placed  encouragement,  and  not  disheart- 
ened by  derogatory  remarks  or  carping  criticism. 

Gifted  with  a  sensible  apprehension  of  true  progress, 
he  saw  the  right  way  with  penetrating  insight,  and  eagerly, 
though  with  caution,  pressed  forward  therein,  seeking  to 
lead  others  with  steady  step.  Sensibly  liberal,  he  was  yet 
no  radical.  This  was  made  plain  at  the  time  of  the  dis- 
covery of  the  anaesthetic  value  of  ether.  His  course, 
when  brought  face  to  face  with  this  new  revelation  of  im- 
munity to  man,  was  that  which  might  justly  have  been 


SOUND  JUDGMENT  AND  COURTESY.        275 

inferred  from  his  rare  wisdom  and  enlightenment.  Real- 
izing in  the  full  richness  of  their  scope  the  blessings  that 
had  hitherto  lain  dormant,  but  were  now  suddenly  out- 
spread before  him,  like  a  second  land  of  promise,  his  nim- 
ble, quick,  and  forgetive  spirit  gladly  aided  in  imparting 
them  to  the  world,  though  his  wonted  prudence  forbade 
all  haste  or  show  of  rashness.  While  none  could  discern 
more  clearly  than  himself  the  possibilities  of  this  dawning 
future,  none  could  temper  their  dazzling  brightness  with  a 
healthier  discretion  or  a  keener  tact.  This  may  serve  as 
one  of  the  more  prominent  instances  of  that  stimulus, 
wholesome  and  well  directed,  which  he  so  frequently 
gave  to  his  profession,  —  a  stimulus  which  few  sensible 
souls  could  resist,  and  which  to  this  day  invigorates  his 
memory  and  quickens  it  with  an  ever  growing  life  in 
the  minds  of  those  who  have  the  well-being  of  humanity 
at  heart. 

Never  did  any  successful  practitioner  excite  less  envy 
or  personal  jealousy  than  Dr.  Warren.  There  was  among 
his  associates  no  feeling  of  pique  or  expression  of  dispar- 
agement at  his  prosperity.  Such  feelings  could  hardly 
exist  in  presence  of  his  genial  spirit  of  conciliation  and 
utter  lack  of  assumption.  When  with  his  professional 
brethren,  he  claimed  to  be  simply  a  gentleman  among 
gentlemen.  His  easy  suavity  and  good  temper,  his  defer- 
ential courtesy  of  manner,  placed  all  on  a  common  level 
of  consideration ;  and  when  he  differed  from  them,  as  he 
not  unfrequently  did,  though  he  resolutely  held  his  own, 
it  was  with  an  affability  which  disarmed  resentment, 
while  it  mellowed  and  refined  all  the  crudeness  of  active  en- 
mity. Self-assertion  in  his  case  came  not  from  vanity,  but 
from  that  firmness  of  reliance  which  is  born  of  conscious 
strength,  and  is  less  likely  for  that  very  reason  to  give 
offence.  With  him  courage,  self-poise,  and  thorough  train- 
ing early  developed  into  a  maturity  and  solidity  of  idea 
which  never  failed  to  offer  the  suggestion  of  high  achieve- 


276  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEREN. 

ment  and  of  great  resources  ia  the  background,  and  none 
the  less  that  they  were  well  supported  by  that  sound  dis- 
cernment of  character  which  generally  accompanies  a 
large  heart,  and  in  him  had  been  self-elaborated  by  culture 
and  experience.  Loving  his  life's  labor  with  a  quiet  and 
ever  youthful  enthusiasm,  he  was  always  drawn  on  and  on, 
out  of  the  frivolous  present  into  the  serious  future ;  and 
his  regard  for  his  profession  forbade  him  to  be  ever  look- 
ing over  its  edge  for  something  easier  and  more  pleasing. 
Crowning  the  narrow  and  simple  path  of  duty,  he  saw  the 
encouraging  vista  of  a  renown  that  from  its  desert  would 
be  the  more  satisfactory  when  attained.  Always  progres- 
sive, he  realized  the  truth  of  Rousseau's  maxim,  "La 
verite  est  dans  les  choses  et  non  dans  mon  esprit  qui  les 
juge."  By  no  means  the  least  of  the  many  wise  results  to 
which  constant  reflection  led  him  was  the  gradual  dimi- 
nution in  the  quantity  of  medicine  he  prescribed,  and 
his  constantly  increasing  faith  in  the  vis  medicatrix 
naturce. 

Responsive  to  the  suggestions  of  a  nature  truly  noble, 
Dr.  Warren  disdained  everything  base.  From  his  own 
lofty  ideal  he  calmly  overlooked  the  weaknesses  of  others. 
Making  no  secret  of  his  profession,  he  freely  explained 
whatever  might  seem  intricate,  imparting  with  ample 
liberality  from  his  own  resources,  and  ready  to  assist  any 
and  all  deserving  claimants  to  the  extent  of  his  ability. 
Possessing  an  innate  sense  of  justice  and  a  far-sighted 
perception  of  merit  in  others,  he  acknowledged  this 
promptly,  and  especially  in  those  younger  or  less  favored 
than  himself,  thus  often  helping  to  smooth  paths  strewn 
with  obstacles  to  fruitful  progress.  His  was  a  soul  teem- 
ing with  healthy  impulses,  and  of  a  peerless  fidelity, 
which  elevated  even  the  daily  duties  of  life  into  a  pure 
and  reviving  atmosphere.  Justly  led  to  believe  in  his 
own  inspirations,  he  depended  upon  them  with  a  growing 
firmness.     With  their  shining  in  his  heart  he  enjoyed  an 


SURGICAL    QUALITIES.  277 

ever  growing   peace,   whatever    outward   friction   might 
tend  to  raise  or  depress  him.1 

Dr.  Warren  was  equally  eminent,  both  as  surgeon  and 
physician,  —  a  union  seldom  encountered,  since  few  are 
so  constituted  that  the  qualities  needed  for  success  in  the 
one  calling  do  not  tend  to  prevent,  to  a  certain  degree, 
distinction  in  the  other.  Only  minds  of  large  and  un- 
usual calibre  can  expect  to  excel  equally  in  a  profession 
that  demands  a  quick  grasp  of  the  situation,  promptness 
of  action,  a  certain  mechanical  dexterity,  a  skilful  hand, 
and  the  coolest  of  nerves,  joined  at  times  to  a  seeming 
if  not  actual  harshness  and  cruelty,  and  in  one  where 
softness  of  demeanor,  slow  studies  of  mysterious  and  con- 
tradictory symptoms,  nice  detection  of  possible  progress, 
and  long  and  earnest  reflection  on  constitutional  peculiar- 
ities are  the  essential  elements  of  success.  As  to  his  dis- 
tinction as  a  surgeon,  the  simple  mention  thereof  will 
suffice  to  bring  clearly  before  the  mind  of  every  reader 
of  this  work  a  hundred  illustrations  in  proof  of  its  uni- 
versal admission.  "  He  always  came  up  to  my  idea  of  a 
perfect  surgeon,"  wrote  Dr.  Bowditch ;  and  no  utterance 
could  be  more  completely  satisfactory  than  this,  especially 
to  those  who  bear  in  mind  that  it  came  from  a  brother 
practitioner  who  has  been  so  greatly  praised  himself.  It 
is  a  further  instance  of  the  fact  that  Dr.  "Warren  was  not 
only  one  of  whom  his  associates  could  feel  no  jealousy, 
but  one  whom  it  was  a  peculiar  pleasure  to  enrich  with 
their  own  commendation.  In  every  phase  of  his  profes- 
sional work   he   was   invariably  master  of  himself,  and 

1  Dr.  Warren's  sense  of  justice  took  a  wide  range,  and  often  led  to  acts  which 
failed  to  harmonize  exactly  with  the  general  tone  of  his  sympathies.  He  invari- 
ably tried  to  do  that  which  was  right,  whatever  might  be  the  conflict  with  his  own 
opinions,  professional,  political,  religious,  or  other.  On  one  occasion  of  much  civic 
excitement  in  regard  to  an  approaching  election,  he  observed  to  a  friend,  "  I  find 
the  name  of  a  black  man  on  my  ticket.  I  don't  think  I  can  quite  swallow  him.  I 
shall  make  some  inquiries."  Coming  home  shortly  after,  he  said,  "  Well,  I  made 
my  inquiries,  and  swallowed  the  whole  prescription,  as  I  discovered  that  the  black 
man  was  the  best  one  on  the  ticket." 


278  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEEEN. 

therefore  of  the  position.  His  grasp  of  all  attending 
circumstances  was  quick  and  complete.  His  hand,  V in- 
strument des  instruments,  was  admirably  adapted  by  its  form 
and  play  to  give  expression  to  his  mental  workings. 
It  was  hardly  broader  than  his  wrist,  the  remarkable 
width  of  which  enabled  him  easily  to  command  fingers 
that  were  long,  slender,  and  of  peculiar  flexibility,  radi- 
ating from  such  a  strong  point  d'appui.  They  were  the 
fit  and  necessary  agents  in  the  performance  of  many 
operations  where  coolness  of  nerve  and  soundness  of 
judgment  must  inevitably  be  followed  by  rapidity  of 
execution,  if  success  were  to  be  expected.  This  was 
especially  the  case  before  the  discovery  of  ether,  when 
celerity  of  movement  was  more  indispensable  than  now 
and  one  might  say  absolutely  so  to  a  nature  like  that  of 
Dr.  "Warren,  who  was  ever  sensitive  to  pain  and  trouble. 
Though  the  sight  of  the  acute  anguish  caused  him  much 
distress,  he  did  not  allow  it  to  unman  him ;  yet  there 
were  occasions  when  this  might  have  occurred  had  not 
stern  self-control  and  concentration  of  power  been  sup- 
plemented by  the  most  agile  and  dexterous  co-operation 
of  the  hands.  Thus  he  was  able  to  reduce  to  its  mini- 
mum the  pain  he  could  not  wholly  prevent,  and,  impelled 
by  generous  motives,  kept  himself  free  from  that  hard- 
ness of  nature  and  loss  of  sympathy  which  his  profession 
appears  unavoidably  to  develop  in  many  of  its  members. 
And  such  he  always  continued  to  be.  Aware  that  it  was 
his  mission  to  save  life,  he  sought  to  effect  this  with  the 
least  possible  suffering  to  those  who  resorted  to  him ;  and 
so  a  life  that  was  vat  all  times  broad  in  its  aims  broadened 
likewise  in  its  tenderness  of  feeling.1 

1  Of  Dr.  Warren's  skill  and  rapidity  many  instances  are  related.  A  patient 
called  with  a  tumor  on  his  head.  The  Doctor  examined,  took  his  instruments,  and 
to  the  anxious  watcher  seemed  carefully  preparing  himself  for  the  operation.  At 
length  the  patient  said,  "  Well,  Doctor,  are  n't  you  about  ready  to  begin  1 "  "It  is 
all  done,"  was  the  reply  of  the  operator,  who  had  removed  the  tumor,  and  was 
already  putting  his  implements  away  in  their  cases. 

In  a  note  to  the  writer  of  this  memoir,  Dr.  John  Ellis  Blake,  a  former  pupil  of 


AT    THE    HOSPITAL.  279 

During  all  his  long  connection  as  visiting  surgeon  with 
the  Massachusetts  General  Hospital,  where  Dr.  Warren 
gave  so  much  of  the  best  that  was  in  him,  nothing  could 
exceed  his  popularity.  His  large  acquirements,  his  dex- 
terity of  hand,  his  ready  sympathies,  were  at  the  service 
of  all  indifferently;  and  not  these  alone,  but  he  was 
equally  lavish  of  those  engaging  attentions  which  made 
him  so  welcome  to  patients  who  had  apparently  stronger 
claims  upon  him.  That  the  greater  part  of  the  hospital 
inmates  were  needy,  and  of  a  lower  station  than  his  own, 
was  nothing  to  him,  and  nowise  influenced  his  treatment 
of  them.  He  shrank  from  no  exertion  in  their  behalf, 
and  the  very  helplessness  and  destitution  he  so  often  wit- 
nessed among  them  but  served  to  commend  them  the 
more  urgently  to  his  good  offices.  Many  were  the  words 
of  cheer  that  he  dispensed  as  he  moved  from  bed  to  bed, 
from  ward  to  ward.  They  were  but  the  dictates  of  a 
natural  kindliness  which  flowed  with  the  sunny  brightness 
of  running  water.  Nor  did  his  care  of  his  patients  cease 
with  the  performance  of  his  more  essential  duties.  Those 
on  whom  he  had  operated  continued  the  objects  of  his 
interest  till  it  was  no  longer  needed.  He  was  by  no 
means  satisfied  to  leave  them  to  the  ordinary  attendants, 
but  he  made  a  practice  of  visiting  them  soon  again,  that 
he  might  satisfy  himself  as  to  their  condition  and  see 
that  nought  was  lacking  for  their  comfort.  Not  unfre- 
quently  he  took  them  flowers,  or  other  little  offerings 
that  might  please  and  encourage.  Later  in  life  it  was 
his  habit  to  bring  his  children  with  him  on  these  occa- 

Dr.  Warren,  says :  "  His  manner  to  all,  high  and  low,  was  most  courteous  and 
gentle,  inspiring  confidence  at  once.  The  best  interests  of  the  patients  were  with 
him  always  the  paramount  consideration,  and  he  would  never  sacrifice  them  to  any 
desire  for  personal  fame.  I  remember  once,  at  a  time  when  there  were  present  by 
invitation  a  number  of  distinguished  surgeons  from  otlier  cities,  he  postponed  an 
operation  which  could  not  have  failed  to  show  his  skill  in  the  most  favorable 
light,  because  the  patient  was  a  little  indisposed.  He  was  unwilling,  from  any  mo- 
tive of  self-interest,  to  endanger  the  patient's  chances  of  recovery.  The  operation 
was  afterwards  done  most  successfully  in  the  presence  of  the  hospital  staff  only." 


280  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

sions,  partly  from  fondness  for  their  company,  partly  from 
their  inspiriting  effect  on  the  sufferers.  "  Come,  my  little 
ladies,"  he  would  say  in  his  blithe  and  sportive  tones, 
"  shall  we  go  and  see  how  the  patients  are  getting  on  ?" 
And  off  they  would  start  on  their  errand  of  mercy. 

As  a  physician  Dr.  "Warren  possessed  a  remarkable 
sense  of  the  peculiar  ailments  of  his  patients  and  a 
shrewd  appreciation  of  their  symptoms.  His  diagnosis 
was  generally  rapid  and  correct,  and  often  resulted  from 
some  crucial  test  on  which  his  observation  had  taught 
him  to  rely.  This  arose  not  more  from  long  experience 
than  from  quickness  of  perception  that  had  been  stimula- 
ted by  his  own  delicate  organization  and  uncertain  health. 
The  aptitude  with  which  he  detected  the  special  troubles 
and  wants  of  his  patients  was  accompanied  by  an  equal 
aptitude  for  relieving  them.  Especially  was  this  true  of 
those  minor  discomforts  which  are  the  source  of  perpetual 
irritation,  and  can  yet  be  remedied  by  tact  and  discern- 
ment. As  a  nurse  no  one  could  be  more  efficient  than 
he  in  the  proffer  of  those  little  alleviations  which,  through 
their  apparent  insignificance,  are  so  seldom  estimated  at 
their  true  value,  and  yet  are  so  grateful  to  the  ailing. 
He  never  overlooked  the  import  of  these  slight  atten- 
tions, but  estimated  them  at  their  real  value,  being  con- 
scious, moreover,  that  what  is  worth  doing  at  all  is  worth 
doing  well.  His  influence  over  those  who  sought  his 
advice  was  both  strong  and  lasting.  They  became  his 
friends  from  the  first,  and  generally,  in  the  end,  his  ad- 
mirers ;  and  the  attachment  thus  based  on  both  love  and 
esteem  almost  inevitably  endured  to  the  end.  He  was 
not  one  to  weaken  'the  connection  by  any  act  of  his,  since 
he  was  not  only  professionally  true  to  his  patients,  but 
was  the  very  soul  of  honor  as  well,  and  scorned  all  fur- 
tive or  devious  ways. 

In  the  society  of  one  so  beaming  with   comfort,   so 
ready  to  point  out  the  silver  lining  of  that  cloud  which 


DEFERENCE   TO   PATIENTS.  281 

often  overhangs  and  darkens  our  poor  humanity,  there 
were  not  many  who  could  fail,  for  the  time  at  least,  to 
detect  a  brighter  dawning  beyond  all  the  depression  that 
blackened  their  lives.  Nor  did  his  patients  yield  less 
surely  and  pleasurably  to  that  tact  which  Dr.  Warren  ever 
evinced,  —  a  tact  which  silently  admitted  that  the  patient 
was  for  the  moment,  whatever  his  position,  on  the  same 
level  as  himself,  and  was  entitled  to  that  urbanity  and 
consideration  which  were  so  peculiarly  his  own.  He  was 
a  gentleman  ministering  of  his  best  to  gentlemen  or 
ladies;  and  all  breathed  while  he  attended  upon  them  the 
same  fine  air  as  himself,  the  effluence  of  hereditary  cour- 
tesy and  good  taste.  He  dispensed  a  grateful  aroma  of 
old-time  affability,  flavored  by  a  sympathy  the  fervor 
and  sincerity  of  which  none  were  disposed  to  question. 
However  pressing  the  claims  upon  his  time,  or  with 
whatever  authority  these  might  be  urged,  an  inherent 
conscientiousness  would  not  suffer  him  to  tender  less  than 
full  justice  to  all,  or  to  refuse  to  any  one,  however  humble 
might  be  his  class  or  condition,  the  courtesy  that  he  felt 
to  be  his  due ;  nor  was  this  courtesy  suffered  to  degen- 
erate into  the  frigid  and  conventional  civilities  that  so 
often  wait  upon  a  fee,  but  had  all  the  aspect  of  a  personal 
concern,  and  was  utterly  void  of  any  sign  of  rigor  or 
dictation.  Often  his  patient  was  favored  with  a  witty 
bon-mot  or  lively  anecdote,  of  which  he  had  good  store. 
When  he  had  thus  smoothed  the  way,  and  done  his  best 
to  excite  a  gayer  feeling  and  a  partial  oblivion  of  trouble, 
he  would  say,  "  Now  what  is  the  matter,  and  what  can  I 
do  for  you  ?  "  His  very  prescriptions  at  times  were  leav- 
ened with  fun  and  humor,  which  would  bubble  up  like  a 
never-failing  spring  of  cooling  and  refreshing  vigor.  He 
had  a  clear  perception  of  the  value  of  cheerfulness  as  an 
aid  towards  the  recovery  of  health.  No  one  understood 
better  than  he  that  a  sad  countenance  invites  failure,  and 
presages  funereal  trappings  and  suits  of  woe.     Even  in 


282  JONATHAN  MASON  WARREN. 

her  earliest  infancy,  medical  experience  had  discovered 
this  truth.  The  oldest  manuscript  yet  found  records  the 
saying  of  the  Egyptian  physician,  "  Let  thy  face  be 
cheerful  as  long  as  thou  livest ;  has  any  one  come  out  of 
the  coffin  after  having  once  entered  it?"  Dr.  Warren 
was  an  obvious  contradiction  of  the  French  theory  that 
his  profession  was  "  le  plus  triste  des  metiers."  Even 
when  racked  with  pain  himself,  he  never  ceased  to  display 
that  all-pervading  genial  smile  which  by  its  mild  lustre 
disclosed  a  heart  ever  ready  to  revive  and  console. 
However  serious  the  condition  of  the  sick  one,  he  never 
allowed  himself  to  assume  an  expression  of  sadness  ;  and 
this  no  less  from  natural  temperament  than  from  policy, 
and  an  inherent  sagacity  which  was  daily  strengthened 
by  the  results  of  his  experience.1 

It  frequently  happened  that  long  attachment  begot 
other  confidences  than  those  usually  reposed  in  a  physi- 
cian, and  he  became  the  recipient  of  numerous  secrets  of 
importance  from  those  who  had  learned  to  esteem  his 
judgment  and  saw  the  worth  of  his  advice.  Such  confi- 
dences he  was  careful  to  guard  with  diligence  and  use 
with  caution,  well  aware  that  any  indiscreet  employment 
thereof  might  entail  irreparable  mischief,  alarm,  and 
expense.  Many  were  the  tokens  bestowed  upon  him  by 
those  who  had  profited,  either  professionally  or  other- 
wise, by  his  sound  sense  and  skill,  and  desired  to  offer  a 

1  Of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Nathanael  Williams,  who  in  1703  was  appointed  master  of  the 
Latin  School  —  "  the  then  only  Publick  and  Free  Grammar  School  of  this  Great 
Town  ;  the  Principal  School  of  the  British  Colonies,  if  not  of  all  America "  — 
and  who  still  continued  to  practise  as  a  physician,  it  was  said:  "He  was  much 
concerned  for  all  his  Patients,  tender  of  them,  careful  in  attending  them,  made 
up  his  more  important  Medicines  with  his  own  Hands ;  gave  those  whom  he 
tho't  proper,  wise  and  pious  Counsels ;  and  at  their  Desire  often  added  his  suit- 
able &  gracious  Prayers  in  their  dying  Sicknesses.  He  helped  the  Families  of 
his  Pastors  and  the  Poor  Gratis ;  and  yet  as  careful  of  them,  as  if  he  had  his 
Fees.  And  how  encouraging  his  lively  Voice  &  Countenance  when  he  came  into 
our  Chambers  !  They  did  good  like  a  Medicine,  revived  our  Spirits  and  lightened 
our  Maladies."  —  Funeral  Sermon  by  Rev.  Thomas  Prince,  M.A.  Delivered  Jan. 
15,  1738. 


GKATEFUL    TOKENS.  283 

permanent  recognition  thereof.1  These  took  various 
forms,  according  to  the  taste  or  means  of  the  donors;  and 
Dr.  Warren's  family  still  preserve  numerous  works  of  art 
in  gold,  silver,  bronze,  or  other  material,  wrought  into 
shapes  of  beauty  well  pleasing  to  a  cultivated  mind. 
From  Mrs.  Isaac  P.  Davis  came  a  valuable  picture  by  an 
old  Spanish  master ;  from  another  friend  a  group  exqui- 
sitely modelled  in  bronze  by  Barbedienne ;  from  a  third, 
a  statuette  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici ;  from  another,  a  silver 
dish  of  great  value  and  elegance.  The  relatives  of 
Daniel  Webster  presented  him  with  a  handsome  salver  of 
solid  silver,  as  an  acknowledgment  of  those  assiduities 
which  he  was  so  glad  to  bestow  on  their  illustrious  father 
during  his  last  illness.  These  and  various  other  remind- 
ers of  the  deference  and  affection  paid  to  Dr.  Warren  are 
now  guarded  by  his  children  as  heirlooms  to  be  forever 
cherished.2 

Nor  was  the  high  opinion  of  Dr.  Warren  which  was 
entertained  by  those  who  were  able  to  offer  such  costly 

1  Not  a  few  families  had  been  from  one  generation  to  another  under  the  care  of 
the  Warrens,  so  that  they  might  almost  have  been  termed  the  hereditary  patients 
of  Dr.  Mason  Warren.  In  such  cases  as  these  the  mutual  interest  was  firm  and 
deep,  and  rarely  did  it  succumb  to  any  alien  influence.  Under  date  of  Oct.  29, 
1865,  Dr.  Warren  writes  in  his  journal :  "  Mrs.  Doggett  says  that  her  grandmother 
was  attended  by  Gen.  Joseph  Warren,  her  mother  by  John  Warren,  and  she  has 
been  attended  by  my  father  and  myself.  She  is  eighty-four  years  old,  and  still 
well.    Took  Collins  to  see  her." 

2  The  reader  may  not  be  uninterested  to  learn  that  Dr.  Warren's  fees  were 
unusually  small,  and  to  the  practitioners  of  this  generation  would  appear  in  many 
instances  absurdly  so.  He  disliked  anything  like  an  undue  estimate  of  his  abili- 
ties, and  really  charged  much  less  than  others  for  his  professional  work.  When 
his  health  began  to  fail,  and  it  was  suggested  by  some  of  his  intimate  friends  among 
the  fraternity  that  he  ought  to  ask  more  and  work  less,  he  peremptorily  refused 
even  to  take  it  into  consideration.  He  derived  one  of  his  choicest  pleasures  from 
the  gratified  and  unconcealed  delight  manifested  by  some  at  the  small  amount  of 

their  bills.     In  his  journal  one  reads:   "1859,  Nov.  17.  —  Eev.  Dr. left  me 

yesterday  well,  and  insisted  on  paying  me  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  though 
I  asked  him  only  fifty."  One  day  a  Western  man  came  in,  and  after  finding  great 
relief  from  a  somewhat  complicated  operation,  expressed  his  astonishment  at  the 
small  amount  of  the  fee  required.  It  was  but  ten  dollars,  and  to  pay  it  he  pro- 
duced two  bills  of  fifty  dollars  each,  evidently  expecting  to  have  been  called  upon 
for  both  of  them.  Instances  like  these  were  very  liberally  scattered  along  Dr. 
Warren's  path  to  the  end  of  his  days. 


284  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEEEN. 

gifts  in  any  degree  lessened  by  their  knowledge  that  he 
was  just  to  all,  and  quite  as  willing  to  bestow  his  skill 
and  his  kindly  attentions  upon  the  poor  as  well  as  upon 
the  rich.  To  the  former  he  was  in  fact  particularly  cour- 
teous and  generous,  abounding  in  provisions  for  their  com- 
fort and  never  overlooking  even  the  humblest  of  them. 
He  assumed  no  airs  of  patronage,  but,  careful  of  their 
feelings,  treated  them  with  a  politeness  —  that  true  po- 
liteness which,  like  great  thoughts,  comes  from  the  heart — 
which  increased  their  self-respect  while  it  did  not  lower 
his  own,  since  it  made  them  sensible  of  a  common  man- 
hood and  tended  to  raise  them  to  a  higher  self-respect. 
Understanding  that  which  was  due  to  himself,  Dr.  Warren 
was  equally  mindful  of  that  which  was  due  to  others,  and 
was  prompt  to  render  it.  He  had  in  perfection  the  art 
of  rendering  to  every  one  what  was  socially  his  right,  and 
in  any  company  where  he  might  be  placed  was  the  mas- 
ter of  an  easy  good-breeding.  The  gratitude  of  his  less 
prosperous  patients  was  very  agreeable  to  Dr.  Warren, 
and  was  displayed  with  as  great  strength  and  frequency 
by  them  as  by  others  more  favored.  They  could  not 
present  him  with  silver  or  gold,  but  they  were  ready  to 
manifest  their  thanks  by  such  means  as  they  possessed. 
Now  and  again  messages  quivering  with  fluent  gratitude 
would  come  to  him  from  one  or  another  of  his  beneficia- 
ries ;  at  times  halting  lines  of  uncouth  though  expressive 
poetry,  or  letters  quaintly  worded  but  rich  with  affluence 
of  creditable  feeling.  In  these  he  would  often  find  a 
quiet  enjoyment,  flowing  both  from  the  fervor  of  their 
acknowledgments  and  from  the  unwitting  drollery  of 
their  style  and  language.     Says  one :  — 

"  All  I  can  offer  is  my  fervent  thanks  and  deep  and  heartfelt 
gratitude,  which  will  cease  only  with  my  life.  If  the  conscious- 
ness that  you  will  always  live  in  the  hearts  of  those  who 
through  your  benevolence  have  been  raised  from  despondency 
and  made  to  rejoice  can  afford  you  satisfaction,  it  is  yours." 


LETTER.  285 

To  this  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  add  one  further  testi- 
mony to  the  excellences  of  Dr.  Warren's  character,  the 
interest  in  which  is  not  a  little  increased  by  the  thought 
that  it  was  written  in  the  face  of  impending  death. 

Dr.  Warren: 

Dear  Sir,  —  I  feel  as  if  I  could  not  die  without  expressing 
some  of  the  feelings  which  I  have  toward  you.  Your  kindness 
and  attention  to  our  family,  the  sympathy  always  expressed  (to 
say  nothing  of  your  generosity),  have  made  you  in  my  eyes, 
even  from  a  child,  the  object  of  heartfelt  respect  and  sincere 
affection.  Your  kind  attentions  to  my  brothers,  and,  above  all, 
to  my  mother,  now  that  they  have  gone,  I  have  thought  of  much 
in  this  my  last  sickness ;  and  as  to-day  is  the  last  that  I  expect 
to  see  on  earth  I  cannot  refrain  from  leaving  this  line  for  you. 

When  I  saw  your  name  among  those  who  so  narrowly  escaped 
death  on  the  Norwalk  Railroad,  and  that  you  sailed  in  the  steamer 
which  followed  the  ill-fated  "  Arctic  "  rather  than  in  her,  I  could 
not  but  feel  that  if  guardian  angels  are  appointed  to  watch  over 
those  loved  on  earth,  some  of  my  family  were  among  those  per- 
mitted by  God  to  watch  over  you,  and  I  well  know  they  would 
want  no  more  welcome  mission. 

I  have  been  very  sick  the  past  month.  Great  would  have 
been  the  comfort  to  me  to  have  seen  you,  and  have  had  your 
skill  and  experience  in  my  case,  which  has  been  peculiar  in  many 
of  its  features ;  but  I  could  not  think  of  taxing  you  with  all 
your  cares  to  come  out  and  see  me. 

I  can  leave  no  better  wish  for  you  and  yours  than  that  the 
same  glorious  hope  which  has  sustained  me  in  my  sufferings,  and 
renders  this  the  happiest  clay  of  my  life,  may  be  yours  when 
called  to  that  hour  to  which  I  am  now  looking  forward. 
With  much  love  I  am  your  faithful  friend, 


Beookline,  Feb.  26,  1855. 

Dr.  Warren's  constant  tenderness  of  heart  made  him 
peculiarly  sensible  to  every  form  of  misery  or  sorrow. 
Each  example  of  this  which  came  under  his  notice  im- 
pressed him  as  a  sort  of  personal  appeal  which  he  found 
it  almost  impossible  to  resist,  nor,  had  he  been  able  to 


286  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEKEN. 

resist,  would  he  have  done  so,  as  a  liberal  charity  was  with 
him  a  matter  of  conscience.  His  purse,  his  tongue,  his 
skilful  hand,  his  generous  sympathies,  were  invariably  at 
the  service  of  poverty,  sickness,  or  other  phase  of  human 
distress.  Not  a  ripple  of  trouble  moved  across  his  vision 
that  he  did  not  try  to  still  it.  Many  a  time  and  oft  it  was 
his  fortune  to  excite  in  natures  apparently  apathetic  a 
torrent  of  feeling  that  would  find  vent  in  burning  lan- 
guage which  through  the  fulness  of  its  utterance  would 
show  how  deeply  the  heart  had  been  touched,  both  by  his 
well-directed  energy  and  by  his  cordial  and  sincere  benefi- 
cence. Having  once  been  summoned  to  the  help  of  an 
Irish  boy  whose  hip  had  been  dislocated  while  trying  to 
save  a  child  from  a  runaway  horse,  Dr.  Warren  performed 
the  operation  with  his  usual  success,  setting  the  bone,  and 
doing  all  in  his  power  to  allay  the  pain  and  to  comfort  the 
fears  of  the  sufferer.  Not  satisfied  with  this,  as  he  noticed 
that  the  boy  had  more  intelligence  than  most  of  his  class, 
he  explained  with  much  minuteness  the  nature  of  the  in- 
jury, and  instructed  him  how  to  favor  the  injured  part 
and  thus  aid  his  recovery ;  afterwards  even  showing  him 
a  skeleton  that  he  might  more  clearly  comprehend  the 
anatomy  of  his  body.  All  this  he  did  in  an  interested  and 
enthusiastic  way  that  revealed  his  native  goodness  of  heart, 
and  actually  drew  tears  of  gratitude  from  the  poor  fellow's 
eyes  in  acknowledgment  of  a  kindness  such  as  he  had 
never  before  witnessed,  still  less  experienced. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

DR.    WARREN'S    YOUTHFUL    SYMPATHIES.  HIS    CHILDREN. 

"MOUNT    WARREN." AN  IDEAL    HOME. HIS    SENSE 

OF     HUMOR    AND    DESCRIPTIVE     POWERS.  DROLLERIES 

OF    PATIENTS. AN     ADMIRABLE     STORY-TELLER. THE 

THURSDAY     EVENING     CLUB.  —  RESEMBLANCE     TO     DR. 
JOHN    WARREN. 

Dr.  Warren  retained  to  the  end  of  his  days  a  large 
share  of  that  simple  childlike  nature  which  has  so  often 
been  observed  in  eminent  men  from  the  remotest  times, 
and  which  had  been  characteristic  of  him  from  his  youth. 
The  company  of  children  pleased  him  well,  and  he  derived 
a  peculiar  gratification  from  listening  to  their  droll  re- 
marks and  studying  their  ways.  With  a  relish  that  never 
tired  he  loved  to  unbend  in  their  society  for  the  moment 
and  become  himself  a  child.  He  always  had  "  a  great 
dash  of  the  boy"  still  in  him,  —  the  outcome  of  perennial 
youth  of  mind,  of  heart,  of  soul.  Its  development  caused 
him  rare  and  healthy  delight.  With  the  young  he  was  as 
popular  as  with  those  of  his  own  age.  They  liked  him, 
and  gladly  received  him  at  once  into  their  little  confi- 
dences, expanding  in  the  sunlight  of  his  genial  nature, 
and  overflowing  with  returning  love  for  the  attentions  he 
bestowed  upon  them.  Nor  was  there  in  all  this  inter- 
course aught  undignified  or  puerile,  nor  did  he  cease  to 
win  their  respect,  though  for  the  time  he  and  they  were 
on  an  equal  footing  of  cordiality  and  friendship.  Their 
sports  drew  forth  his  lively  consideration  ;  and  especially 
did  he  unite  in  their  love  of  the  country  and  the  myriad 


288  JONATHAN"    MASON"   WARREN. 

phases  of  rural  life,  so  dear  to  all  of  tender  years,  with  its 
birds  and  butterflies,  its  flowers  and  greenness.  He  knew 
well  how  to  treat  children,  and  all  his  dealings  showed  a 
remarkable  knowledge  of  their  often  peculiar  tempera- 
ments. As  to  boys,  no  one  could  excel  his  apprehension 
of  their  quick  susceptibilities,  of  their  precocious  manli- 
ness, of  all  their  mysterious  ways  and  oddities.  He  fre- 
quently paid  tribute  to  the  justice  of  Juvenal's  sentiment, 
"  Maxima  debetur  puero  reverentia." 

"  If  you  wish  to  find  out  anything,"  he  was  wont  to 
say,  u  stop  and  ask  a  boy."  Having  a  quick  sagacity  of 
observation  and  rare  experience  of  humanity,  he  would 
early  detect  in  a  boy  or  girl  many  a  sign  of  promise, 
hidden  from  one  less  keen,  which  would  be  vindicated  in 
the  growth  of  years. 

Dr.  Warren's  children  from  the  very  dawn  of  their  in- 
fancy were  the  light  of  his  life.  The  affectionate  rela- 
tions which  existed  between  him  and  them  were  charming 
to  witness.  They  daily  renewed  his  youth  and  brightened 
with  their  vivacity  a  mind  at  times  oppressed  with  care 
and  dulled  by  the  increasing  routine  of  an  exacting  and 
toilsome  profession.  At  home  or  abroad  they  were  never 
out  of  his  mind ;  and  whenever  he  could  manage  to  do 
this,  he  was  accustomed  to  take  one  or  more  of  them  with 
him  on  his  visits  in  the  suburbs  of  Boston.  He  watched 
the  unfolding  of  their  characters  with  a  tender  solicitude, 
as  when  one  bends  over  the  bud  of  some  favorite  plant 
about  to  expand  its  delicate  petals ;  and,  like  the  sun,  he 
sought  to  warm  them  with  his  love,  and  by  every  fond 
allurement  to  nourish  their  unformed  natures  into  purity, 
grace,  and  symmetry.  Nothing  gave  him  more  unalloyed 
satisfaction  than  to  detect  some  new  sign  of  their  progress 
in  the  path  that  he  had  marked  out  for  them.  This  he 
was  prompt  to  recognize  ;  and  he  wrould  often,  after  it  had 
become  habitual,  call  attention  thereto  and  strive  to  fix  it 
firmly  in  the  memory  by  a  happy  and  encouraging  epi- 


ATTACHMENT   TO   HIS    CHILDREN.  289 

thet.  One  of  his  daughters  he  termed  his  "  little  mother," 
thus  seeking  to  show  his  appreciation  of  her  prudent  man- 
agement in  his  household,  and  her  mature,  womanly  char- 
acter ;  and  yet  again,  on  account  of  her  tranquillizing 
influence  over  the  family,  he  called  her  "  the  peacemaker." 
So  closely  was  his  existence  blended  with  that  of  his 
children  that  the  veriest  trifle  was  endeared  to  him  by 
their  use  thereof,  and  no  article  was  too  trivial  for  him  to 
preserve  as  a  souvenir  of  their  past.1  The  toys  that  had 
once  belonged  to  them,  the  books  they  had  read,  trifling 
portions  of  their  dress,  retained  in  his  eyes  a  certain  pre- 
ciousness  and  sanctity  long  after  their  owners  had  done 
with  them;  and  many  of  these  he  would  put  away  in 
a  safe  nook,  where  he  could  occasionally  meet  with 
them,  like  little  oases  to  cheer  his  pilgrimage.  Their 
first  odd  little  attempts  at  drawing  or  poetry,  and  divers 
other  offerings  by  which  they  manifested  their  affection 
on  memorable  days,  he  carefully  pasted  in  an  album  for 
future  reference.  All  such  objects  had  to  him  a  vital 
meaning,  and  never  ceased  to  unfold  whole  realms  of 
enjoyment. 

He  derived  a  choice  gratification  from  having  his  por- 
trait taken  with  those  of  his  children  —  daguerreotype, 
ambrotype,  photograph,  or  what  not,  he  had  tried  them 


1  This  affectionate  interest  steadily  increased  with  age,  and  his  growing  family- 
gave  him  daily  renewed  opportunities  of  displaying  it  in  innumerable  forms,  and 
thus  showing  his  healthy  temperament  and  his  capacity  for  pure  and  simple  pleas- 
ures. The  only  grandchild  horn  during  his  life  was  welcomed  as  a  fresh  object 
of  love  and  devotion,  and  in  his  journal  one  reads  his  name  with  a  frequency  that 
reveals  the  continual  presence  of  the  child  in  his  mind.  "  June  5,  1866.  —  Baby 
dined  with  us  on  Saturday,  and  after  dinner  I  told  him  to  look  out  into  the  street 
and  see  what  was  there.  '  A  pony ! '  he  exclaimed.  I  took  him  downstairs,  and  he 
got  on  to  the  little  broad-backed  creature,  with  a  new  saddle  and  bridle  which  I  had 
bought  at  Bailey's  in  the  morning.  He  is  one  of  the  English  Exmouth  breed,  and 
very  tame.  He  rode  at  once  down  Beacon  Street,  with  the  groom  leading  him,  to 
visit  his  friends.  He  said  he  had  been  'pulling  bones'  (wishing-bones)  for  two 
years  for  him."  "  Baby "  was  to  him  a  source  of  perennial  delight.  A  few 
weeks  before  his  death  he  wrote  in  his  journal:  "May  25th.  —  Mrs.  Hammond 
and  Baby  dined  with  us  ;  and  his  pony,  Scamper,  which  I  gave  him  about  a  year 
ago,  was  brought  up  for  him  after  dinner." 

19 


290  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

all  —  in  every  possible  style,  dress,  attitude,  expression, 
or  combination  that  could  be  suggested  by  the  taste 
of  the  artist  or  by  his  own  ingenuity.  It  was  a  sort  of 
chronic  domestic  dissipation,  and  the  evidences  thereof 
now  existing  are  innumerable.  One  of  these  represents  the 
father,  mother,  and  all  their  offspring  then  living,  except 
their  son  who  was  in  Europe,  under  the  guise  of  "  Mount 
Warren."  They  formed  a  pyramidal  group,  of  which  his 
own  head  served  as  the  apex,  while  a  space,  cunningly 
contrived  to  be  of  the  right  proportions,  was  reserved  for 
the  absent  one.  This  amusing  and  felicitous  illustration 
of  the  family  union  was  a  great  favorite  with  Dr.  Warren 
among  the  abundant  groups  in  his  possession ;  and  it  was 
pleasant  to  notice  the  affectionate  and  complacent  pride 
with  which  he  looked  upon  it,  none  the  less  in  all  proba- 
bility from  the  tinge  of  melancholy  suggested  by  the  fact 
that  the  name  it  bore  was  likewise  that  of  the  lot  in  the 
cemetery  at  Forest  Hills,  where  he  and  they  all  one  day 
might  hope  to  repose  in  peace  together. 

With  a  father  so  devoted  and  so  full  of  thoughtful  care 
for  his  household,  it  is  not  strange  that  the  retreat  Dr. 
Warren  provided  for  his  wife  and  children  was  a  model 
in  its  every  feature.  Gentle  influences  hedged  it  round 
and  pervaded  it  throughout,  and  there  was  no  hindrance 
to  their  harmonious  working.  Many  have  striven  to 
build  up  an  ideal  home,  but  few  have  been  favored  with 
success  in  this  regard  so  completely  as  Dr.  Warren.  It 
was  the  natural  result  of  his  untiring  efforts  in  that  direc- 
tion, of  his  well-directed  watchfulness,  his  care  and  tact, 
his  all-pervading  parental  affection,  —  of  all  those  qualities, 
in  short,  which  spring  up  with  fresh  and  always  quick- 
ening life  in  the  mind  of  one  to  whose  happiness  a  well- 
ordered  house  is  essential,  and  who  discerns  from  afar  the 
elements  necessary  to  its  creation.  No  one  was  more  im- 
pressed than  Dr.  Warren  with  the  truth  of  the  saying  that 
"  People  must  look  at  home  for  real,  substantial  happiness, 


HOME   PLEASURES.  291 

since  it  is  impossible  to  find  it  for  any  length  of  time  else- 
where." Of  this  he  himself  was  an  obvious  example,  and 
he  lived  to  prove  that  one  may  be  a  man  of  the  world 
without  the  loss  or  even  the  diminution  of  his  fondness  for 
the  pure  pleasures  of  domestic  life.1  In  his  family  he  found 
a  haven  of  rest,  and  at  his  fireside  he  enjoyed  the  choicest 
pleasures  that  the  passing  hours  could  afford.  In  that 
sweet  seclusion  his  happiest  days  were  spent  in  the  soci- 
ety of  wife  and  children,  who  were  all  in  all  to  him,  and 
to  whom  he  looked,  and  not  in  vain,  for  a  return  of  that 
wealth  of  affectionate  care  which  he  lavished  on  them. 
His  household  moved  on  with  the  regularity  and  precision 
of  well-planned  machinery,  and  the  placid  content  with 
which  he  contemplated  everything  around  him  revealed 
his  satisfaction.  His  tastes  were  simple.  He  liked  a 
lively  chat  with  his  children,  or  a  quiet  evening  with  his 
wife,  when  he  would  often  turn  over  the  leaves  of  some 
favorite  volume  of  engravings,  works  of  the  old  masters, — 
the  Dresden  Gallery,  for  example, — in  which  he  especially 
delighted,  and  call  her  attention  to  their  endless  beauties. 
While  thus  engaged  he  was  sumptuously  happy.  Whether 
with  one  or  more,  he  was  invariably  good  company.  Con- 
versation never  languished  in  his  presence.  His  very 
features  and  expression  seemed  to  stimulate  it,  and  it 
would  have  been  impossible  to  sit  in  silence  before  those 
speaking  eyes.  He  appeared  to  be  always  surrounded  by 
an  atmosphere  of  sunny  gladness,  which  had  a  magnetic 

1  Not  only  in  other  features,  but  in  affection  and  domestic  attachment,  did  the 
Warrens  manifest  a  striking  family  similitude.  This  was  prominent  among  the 
numerous  traits  which  served  to  recall  the  memory  of  Dr.  John  Warren  in  his 
grandson  Mason.  Said  Dr.  James  Jackson  in  his  eulogy  of  the  former :  "  Could  we 
be  permitted  to  follow  him  into  the  sacred  retreats  of  domestic  life,  and  to  view 
him  in  the  delicate  and  endearing  relations  which  he  there  sustained,  his  char- 
acter would  swell  upon  the  eye  in  colors  still  more  rich,  still  more  grateful.  It  was 
there  his  happiness  centred.  In  that  connection,  which  decides  everything  in  re- 
spect to  domestic  enjoyment,  he  found  his  greatest  felicity.  He  was  truly  blessed 
in  a  large  family  ;  and  the  intercourse  between  parent  and  children  was  marked 
with  all  the  tenderness  of  affection  on  his  side,  as  it  was  reciprocated  by  the  confi- 
dence and  respect  of  sincere  filial  love." 


292  JONATHAN   MASON  WARREN. 

effect  on  others,  and  brought  their  better  qualities  of 
heart  and  mind  to  the  surface.  "  The  unlovely  fret  and 
folly  of  common  life  "  retired  afar  off  with  their  earthy 
and  belittling  friction.  Nor  did  this  depend  upon  extra- 
neous circumstances.  Be  his  dwelling  large  or  small,  it 
made  no  difference  to  a  nature  which  stood  in  itself  col- 
lected. Over  the  door  of  his  residence  at  No.  6  Park 
Street  —  a  little  atom  of  a  house  —  might  have  been 
inscribed  the  familiar  motto  which  Ariosto  chose  for  his 
abode  at  Ferrara,  "  Parva  sed  apta  mihi."  For  the  time 
being  it  was  perfect  in  his  estimation,  and,  like  sunshine 
in  a  shady  place,  filled  up  the  measure  of  his  desires. 
Looking  around  him  one  day,  his  face  beaming  with  satis- 
faction, he  said,  "  I  do  not  see  why  this  is  not  quite  equal 

to  the mansion,"  mentioning  the  largest  and  most 

luxurious  dwelling  in  his  neighborhood. 

He  had  a  catholic  appreciation  of  the  beautiful,  under 
whatever  shape  it  might  lurk,  —  in  the  shape  of  woman 
or  the  form  of  man,  in  the  faintest  strain  of  melody  or 
the  humblest  flower,  —  nor  was  he  chary  in  the  expression 
of  his  delight.  His  attachment  for  places  once  endeared 
to  him  was  most  tenacious,  so  deeply  seated  became  feel- 
ings that  had  formerly  excited  him,  and  so  powerfully  did 
circumstances  call  them  up  again.  Of  the  house  No.  2 
Park  Street,  that  he  last  occupied,  he  remarked,  "  Here 
was  I  born,  and  here  will  I  die ; "  and  he  derived  no  little 
comfort  from  the  fact  that  the  very  room  which  wit- 
nessed his  advent  into  the  world  would  behold  also  his 
departure  therefrom,  and  the  close  of  a  career  which  so 
fully  illustrated  the  lines  of  the  Persian  poet,  — 

"  On  parent  knees,  a  naked,  new-born  child, 
Weeping  thou  sat'st,  while  all  around  thee  smiled  ; 
So  live  that,  sinking  to  thy  last  long  sleep, 
Calm  thou  mayst  smile,  while  all  around  thee  weep." 

To  his  children,  and  in  fact  to  all  who  spent  much  of 
their  time  in  his  company,  Dr.  Warren  was  a  continual 


TRAITS   OF   CHARACTER.  293 

instructor.  His  whole  organization  was  so  delicate,  so 
nicely  blended ;  his  character  was  so  true,  so  thoroughly 
unselfish,  and  so  entirely  free  from  the  ugly  pride  of 
negation;  his  pure  morality  was  so  beautified  by  the 
invigorating  verdure  of  good  temper,  —  that  his  daily  life 
wrought  upon  all  about  him  by  a  thousand  influences 
which,  though  unnoticed  at  the  time,  were  powerful  for 
good  in  the  end.  No  circumstance,  however  annoying, — 
and  there  were  occasions  when  he  was  sorely  tried,  —  ever 
tempted  him  to  the  display  of  any  vexation.  His  easy 
good-breeding  appeared  to  those  who  knew  him  the 
proper  issue  of  his  amiable  qualities  of  heart  and  soul, 
and  notably  of  that  sensitiveness  which  was  so  peculiarly 
his.  This  was  almost  an  instinct,  and  in  consequence 
rarely  at  fault,  often  displaying  itself  through  a  subtile 
discrimination.  As  he  practised  a  temperance  in  all 
things,  one  was  conscious  in  his  presence  of  a  powerful 
reserve  of  self-command.  In  his  every  action  one  de- 
tected a  certain  air  which  became  him  like  a  well-fitting 
garment,  a  lordliness  that  never  gave  offence  and  was 
far  removed  from  the  cold  artifices  of  mere  deportment. 
He  was  no  Gibraltar  of  propriety,  forbidding  and  repel- 
lent. He  desired  to  do  everything  becomingly,  and,  how- 
ever slight  it  might  appear,  never  failed  to  impress  a 
character  upon  it. 

The  unusual  virtue  of  punctuality  belonged  to  Dr. 
Warren  in  its  perfection.  Prompt  himself  to  every 
engagement,  as  might  have  been  inferred  from  his 
general  moral  earnestness,  he  could  not  bring  him- 
self to  endure  tardiness  in  others.  Under  his  own  roof 
nothing  of  the  sort  was  permitted,  except  from  inev- 
itable obstacles,  and  at  meals  he  exacted  a  Draconian 
attendance.  Any  failure  in  this  regard  he  looked  upon 
as  both  inconsiderate  and  discourteous.  As  a  host  and 
entertainer  he  was  in  his  element.  Generous  by  nature, 
and  liberal  of  his  purse,  though  with  a  wholesome  and 


294  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

judicious  retention  when  he  thought  it  necessary,  as  of 
one  who  did  not  like  to  waste  his  money,  he  was  able 
to  maintain  the  full  measure  of  a  liberal  and  popular 
hospitality. 

Nothing  adds  a  greater  charm  to  the  society  of  a  well- 
bred  man  than  a  sense  of  humor,  and  of  this  Dr.  "Warren 
offered  a  fascinating  example.  In  him  this  quality  of 
mind  peculiarly  illustrated  Lord  Houghton's  remark : 
"  The  sense  of  humor  is  the  just  balance  of  all  the  fac- 
ulties of  man,  the  best  security  against  the  pride  of 
knowledge  and  the  conceits  of  the  imagination,  the 
strongest  inducement  to  submit  with  a  wise  and  pious 
patience  to  the  vicissitudes  of  human  existence."  Dr. 
Warren's  feeling  for  the  comical  aspects  of  human  nature 
needed  but  little  stimulus  to  bring  it  to  the  surface.  It 
was  the  involuntary  offspring  of  his  own  genial  tempera- 
ment, and  played  to  and  fro  with  the  easy  freedom  of 
heat  lightning,  flashing  though  never  wounding.  It  was 
void  of  artifice,  flippancy,  or  frivolity,  and  its  genuine- 
ness was  plain  to  all  who  shared  it.  Having  this  faculty 
well  under  control,  .and  never  losing  his  consciousness  of 
self,  Dr.  Warren  knew  just  how  far  to  allow  it  to  range, 
and  was  careful  not  to  suffer  it  to  degenerate  into  buf- 
foonery. Also  was  he  sparing  of  everything  that  might 
hurt  the  feelings  of  others,  or  hold  them  up  to  ridicule. 
He  never  sacrificed  his  friend  to  his  joke.  Having  a  nice 
insight  into  men  and  things,  he  was  the  better  able  to 
adapt  his  matter  to  his  hearers,  and  temper  his  facetious- 
ness  by  a  due  regard  for  their  sympathies.  In  these 
attributes  of  humor  and  good-nature  he  was  thoroughly 
American,  and  that  in  their  most  winning  shape.  For 
their  display  his  practice  gave  him  abundant  and  ever- 
growing opportunities,  and  the  droll  revelations  of  his 
patients  alone  would  have  kept  him  well  supplied  with 
illustrations  of  their  working.  The  characteristics  of  the 
humbler  class  among  those  who  resorted  to  him  for  ad- 


DESCRIPTIVE   POWERS.  295 

vice  fully  indemnified  him  in  many  cases  for  the  lack  of 
other  compensation ;  and  their  queer  evasions  of  propri- 
ety, their  crude  ideas,  and  the  picturesque  language  in 
which  they  set  before  him  their  ailments  gave  him  un- 
speakable delight.  These  peculiarities  he  shelved  in  the 
recesses  of  his  brain  for  future  use ;  and  though  he  lis- 
tened with  commendable  patience  and  an  air  of  serious 
concern,  one  might  infer  from  his  gleaming  eyes  that  he 
was  reading  their  stories  between  the  lines.  When  he 
was  at  ease  with  his  friends  these  were  drawn  forth  for 
their  delectation,  and  certainly  lost  nothing  in  the  telling. 
In  bland,  melodious  voice  he  would  produce  them,  as  he 
accented  every  phrase  with  many  felicities  of  descriptive 
fancy  and  graphic  gestures.  His  whole  tone  and  manner 
were  inimitable,  and  those  who  had  once  listened  to  his 
lively  descriptions  were  so  impressed  with  their  attrac- 
tiveness that  they  seldom  dared  to  run  the  risk  of  repeat- 
ing them.  While  passing  to  and  fro  between  Boston  and 
Nahant,  where  he  was  accustomed  to  spend  his  summers, 
the  little  steamer  was  frequently  the  scene  of  these  en- 
tertainments. Taking  his  place  in  a  corner  of  the  saloon, 
where  he  could  be  sheltered  from  any  possible  draught,  to 
which  he  had  an  almost  French  or  Italian  aversion,  he 
would  quickly  make  himself  the  centre  of  an  admiring 
knot  of  friends,  whom  he  would  fascinate  as  long  as  the 
voyage  lasted  by  an  incessant  flow  of  odd  anecdotes  and 
funny  stories,  mostly  from  his  personal  experience  or 
observation.  In  this  respect,  again,  he  recalled  his  dis- 
tinguished confrere,  Sir  Astley  Cooper,  whom  his  biog- 
rapher reports  as  "  constantly  pouring  forth  a  fund  of 
anecdote,  chiefly  illustrative  of  the  scenes  of  his  long  and 
eventful  life,  and  relating  in  many  instances  to  ludicrous 
or  remarkable  circumstances  in  the  history  of  some  of 
his  professional  brethren,  all  told  in  such  a  way  as  to 
convince  one  that  he  possessed  an  innate  love  for  fun  or 
mischief,  so  refined,  however,  by  benevolence  as  never  to 


296  JONATHAN    MASON   WAEKEN. 

wound  or  tarnish  the  characters  of  those  whose  peculiari- 
ties or  infirmities  he  portrayed.1 

Dr.  Warren  for  years  attended  an  old  gentleman  liv- 
ing in  his  neighborhood,  whose  singularities  appeared  to 
increase  with  every  visit.  Having  finally  worn  himself 
out  with  his  freaks,  and  exhausted  the  patience  of  every 
one  about  him,  the  veteran  became  too  infirm  to  quit  his 
chair,  where  he  would  sit  planning  fresh  mischief.  If  the 
Doctor,  after  listening  to  his  various  symptoms,  suggested 
anything  for  his  refreshment,  as  gruel,  beef  tea,  or  what- 
ever else  might  seem  desirable,  he  would  say,  with  a  min- 
gled expression  of  malice  and  amiability,  "  Yes,  Doctor,  I 
will  order  it  at  once."  Thereupon  seizing  the  bell-handle, 
he  would  pull  it  to  and  fro  and  up  and  down  pertina- 
ciously, without  once  relaxing  his  efforts  till  the  servant, 
eager  to  "  silence  that  dreadful  bell,"  made  her  appear- 
ance. "  You  see,  Doctor,  I  always  ring  till  they  come," 
he  would  invariably  observe,  while  a  grin  of  unspeak- 
able delight  lit  up  his  face,  and  seemed  for  the  moment 
to  invigorate  his  whole  system.  Ultimately  this  trouble- 
some old  invalid  was  constrained  to  take  his  final  refuge 
in  bed,  where  he  employed  his  failing  intellect  in  devising 
new  torments  for  his  heirs  and  attendants.  His  ingenuity 
long  seemed  inexhaustible,  though  fortunately  for  the 
peace  of  the  household,  he  was  unable  to  get  at  the  bell. 
At  last  he  bethought  himself  of  total  silence  as  an  engine 
of  aggravation,  and  for  some  days  not  a  word  could  be 
drawn  from  him  by  threats,  cajolery,  or  soft  persuasion. 
His  children,  now  greatly  alarmed,  hung  over  him  with 
many  endearments.  "Speak,  dear  father,  if  it  be  but 
one  word,"  they  exclaimed  again  and  again.  For  days 
this  obstinacy  continued ;  but  at  length  his  lips  parted, 
and  while  his  sorrowful  issue   could  hardly  repress  the 

1  "  Everything  Sir  Astley  Cooper  said  and  did  produced  a  double  effect  from  his 
manner  and  its  accompaniments.  His  voice  was  remarkably  sweet,  yet  sonorous. 
He  was  one  of  the  handsomest  men  of  his  day,  and  perfectly  self-possessed."  — 
Address  before  the  American  Medical  Association  by  Dr.  J.  C.  Warren,  1850. 


ANECDOTES.  297 

eagerness  of  their  expectation,  he  uttered  the  simple 
word  "  Custards ; "  and  this,  for  want  of  a  better,  his 
family  were  fain  to  accept  as  his  last  dying  message,  for 
he  persisted  to  the  end  in  refusing  to  impart  any  other. 

Dr.  "Warren  was  wont  to  tell  a  story  of  one  of  his 
female  patients  which  afforded  him  much  amusement  at 
the  time  the  incident  occurred,  and  much  more  after- 
wards, though  on  some  of  his  brethren  a  similar  experi- 
ence might  have  had  a  different  effect.  For  a  number  of 
years  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  giving  his  professional 
services  to  a  lady  in  reduced  circumstances,  whom  he 
regarded  as  hardly  able  to  offer  him  any  compensation. 
At  length  she  ceased  to  consult  him,  and  he  did  not  see 
her  for  a  long  time.     Happening  to  meet  her  one  day  in 

the  street,  he  accosted  her  :  "  Why,  Mrs. ,  what  has 

become  of  you  that  you  have  not  been  near  me  for  so 
many  months  ?  "  To  which  she  replied,  with  naive  sim- 
plicity, "  Well,  the  fact  is,  Dr.  Warren,  I  didn't  seem  to 
gain  very  much,  and  so  I  thought  I'd  consult  a  pay- 
doctor."  As  this  answer  put  an  effectual  stop  to  further 
colloquy,  the  parties  separated,  though  Dr.  Warren  re- 
tained a  gleeful  recollection  of  the  affair  to  the  last,  and 
often  narrated  it  with  much  zest. 

Dr.  Warren's  reputation  as  a  raconteur  held  its  own 
to  the  last,  while  his  large  and  ever-widening  experience 
daily  increased  it.  Being  very  sensitive  to  new  impres- 
sions, and  favored  with  a  prompt  appreciation  of  any 
eccentricity,  his  supply  of  novelties  in  that  field  never 
dwindled ;  all  the  more,  from  the  great  variety  of  people 
with  whom  he  was  necessarily  brought  in  contact.  Later 
in  life  he  was  wont  to  speak,  as  he  wrote,  in  short,  com- 
pact, incisive  sentences,  well  packed  with  the  material 
which  his  tenacious  memory  and  ready  sympathies 
enabled  him  to  keep  ready  for  instant  use.  An  earnest, 
persuasive  delivery,  a  bland  and  harmonious  voice,  united 
to  a  refined  air  and  a  genial  smile,  gave  his  utterance  a 


298  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEEEN. 

vitality  of  its  own.  Never  was  he  more  entirely  himself 
than  when  he  thus  poured  forth  his  mind  at  his  own  table, 
and  the  pellucid  current  of  his  thought  flowed  full  and 
free.  Though  he  could  not  excel  as  a  lecturer  on  account 
of  the  long-continued  strain  upon  his  vocal  organs,  yet 
on  other  occasions  and  with  a  less  numerous  audience  he 
was  wont  to  speak  with  much  effect  and  not  a  little  elo- 
quence ;  the  more  so  that  experience  had  taught  him  to 
economize  his  voice  and  make  the  most  of  such  resources 
as  he  might  possess. 

Owing  to  his  birth  and  position,  Dr.  Warren  was,  of 
course,  from  the  beginning  of  his  career  brought  into 
relations  more  or  less  close  with  those  who  were  most 
prominent  in  his  own  city,  whether  socially  or  otherwise. 
He  fully  appreciated  his  situation  in  this  respect ;  and  his 
refined  sympathies  and  self-regard  naturally  led  him  to 
commend  himself  to  his  own  order,  though  he  went  de- 
cidedly farther  than  the  mere  assertion  of  his  own  claim 
to  rank  with  the  best  society.  Especially  did  he  seek  to 
promote  whatever  seemed  most  fitly  to  concern  the  vital 
interests  of  his  native  city.  As  in  his  youth  he  had  not 
consorted  with  contemporary  idlers,  but  with  the  highest 
and  maturest  natures  that  the  free  commonwealth  of 
good  society  brought  within  his  reach,  so  in  his  maturer 
years  did  he  favor  such  intellectual  development  as  might 
flow  from  literature,  art,  science,  or  other  phase  of  ex- 
cellence. With  the  most  prominent,  the  worthiest,  and 
ablest  men  in  every  department  he  made  it  his  aim  to  be 
familiar,  and  was  prompt  to  pay  cordial  tribute  to  their 
talents,  while  they  invariably  derived  a  peculiar  pleasure 
from  the  companionship  of  one  who  had  so  often  been 
praised  himself.  He  was  ready  to  detect  all  that  was 
really  valuable,  and  by  taking  it  within  the  compass  of 
his  own  observation,  to  adapt  it,  so  far  as  was  possible,  for 
his  professional  use.  Thus  at  times  the  crude  thoughts  of 
others,  exposed  to  the  diligent  action  of  his  mind,  found 


THURSDAY  EVENING  CLUB.  299 

themselves  expanded  into  fresh  and  wider  forms  of  use- 
fulness, the  poetry  of  one  becoming  in  this  way  practical 
and  useful  in  another,  and  quickened  into  unwonted 
strength  and  vigor. 

Of  the  Thursday  Evening  Club,  which  his  father 
founded  on  the  most  broad  and  liberal  principles,  with 
the  idea  of  periodically  bringing  together  all  those  whose 
especial  talents  in  any  direction  might  add  to  the  real 
progress  of  society,  Dr.  Warren  was  from  the  first  a  lead- 
ing member.  He  regarded  it,  to  a  certain  extent,  as  a 
sort  of  family  institution.  He  identified  himself  with  its 
prosperity,  and  never  failed  to  employ  his  best  endeavor 
to  keep  it  up  to  its  original  standard  of  efficient  working. 
It  still  flourishes,  and  still  bears  the  impress  of  that  zeal 
with  which  he  inspired  it  during  his  whole  life.  Regu- 
larly every  winter  he  entertained  its  members  at  his  own 
house  with  sumptuous  hospitality,  and  always  with  the 
addition  of  really  valuable  contributions  to  its  intellectual 
record.  Not  unfrequently  he  presented  the  results  of  his 
own  discovery  or  observation,  whenever  he  might  have 
met  with  anything  that  he  regarded  of  solid  merit. 

The  same  feeling  of  liberal  and  sensible  interest  Dr. 
Warren  manifested  towards  the  Society  of  the  Cincinnati. 
This  feeling  was  partly  patriotic,  partly  ancestral.  His 
father  was  chosen  an  honorary  member  thereof  in  1847, 
and  a  full  member  in  1854,  in  a  manner  most  flattering  to 
his  self-esteem,  while  he  himself  was  elected  to  represent 
the  Warren  family  in  1863. 

It  has  often  been  noticed,  in  the  history  of  families,  that 
qualities  and  peculiarities  apparent  in  one  generation 
vanish  almost  wholly  in  the  next,  while  in  the  third  they 
reappear  with  not  a  little  of  their  former  strength.  Of 
this  Dr.  Warren  offered  in  many  respects  a  remarkable 
illustration.  Reference  has  heretofore  been  made  to  sev- 
eral of  the  more  prominent  attributes  which  he  proba- 
bly inherited  from  his  celebrated  grandfather,  Dr.  John 


300  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

Warren ;  and  no  one  familiar  with  the  lives  of  these  men 
could  fail  to  be  impressed  with  the  number  and  strength 
of  the  affinities  they  developed  with  increasing  years. 
So  close  was  this  similarity,  that  the  eulogy  on  the  char- 
acter of  Dr.  John  Warren  which  was  pronounced  shortly 
after  his  decease  by  Dr.  James  Jackson  might  serve  to 
present  again  to  the  world,  in  many  of  its  details,  the 
attributes  of  his  grandson.  In  "  the  quick  and  acute  per- 
ception, the  lively  and  strong  imagination,  the  tenacious 
memory,  the  rapid  judgment,  the  prompt  and  decided 
actions  "  specified  by  his  eulogist  as  peculiar  to  the  elder 
"Warren,  we  recognize  the  coming  merits  of  his  successor, 
and  quite  as  distinctly  when  he  goes  on  to  say :  — 

"  He  was  liable,  sometimes  from  ill  health,  and  always  from 
the  afflictions  common  to  our  race,  to  have  his  spirits  greatly 
depressed.  It  was  not  gloom ;  it  was,  especially  when  from 
moral  causes,  an  affection  which  had  more  of  passion  and  more 
of  tenderness.  But  this  affection  was  never  of  long  contin- 
uance, though  sometimes  violent ;  for  there  was  a  peculiar  elas- 
ticity in  both  his  moral  and  physical  constitution,  and  he  was 
quickly  restored  to  that  quickness  and  vivacity  of  temper  which 
spread  sunshine  on  all  about  him. 

"  In  his  deportment  there  was  nothing  imposing,  yet  his  man- 
ners were  exceedingly  graceful.  He  had  the  affability  and  dig- 
nity of  true  politeness.  To  the  young  and  the  humble  he  was 
alwaj's  accessible  and  singularly  agreeable.  From  this  cause  the 
junior  members  of  our  profession  were  extremely  fond  of  con- 
sulting with  him ;  for  while  they  were  sure  of  benefit  from  his 
advice  they  had  never  to  apprehend  that  they  should  be  borne 
down  by  the  display  of  his  superiority." 

In  the  memoir' of  Dr.  John  Warren  to  be  found  in 
Thacher's  "Medical  Biography,"  many  other  details  are 
given  which  still  further  reveal  these  family  similitudes. 
The  writer  speaks  at  length  of — 

"his  temperance,  his  love  for  the  country,  the  deep  inroads 
made  by  the  severity  of  his  labors  on  a  constitution  naturally 


FAMILY   AFFINITIES.  301 

weak,  the  rapidity  of  his  mental  processes,  the  facility  with 
which  he  arrived  at  his  conclusions.  He  entered  readily  and 
warmly  into  the  feelings  of  his  patients.  He  affected  no  interest 
in  their  troubles  that  was  not  sincere.  If  they  were  in  pain  he 
knew  what  their  sufferings  were,  and  it  would  have  been  abhor- 
rent to  his  nature  to  have  treated  them  with  indifference.  In  all 
the  anxieties  of  those  who  were  connected  to  the  sufferers  by 
the  relations  of  domestic  life  he  warmly  sympathized,  for  no  one 
had  felt  them  more  deeply  than  he. 

"  His  eminence  in  society  never  elevated  him  in  his  own  mind 
above  the  lowest  about  him  ;  for  he  considered  all  as  members  of 
one  family,  was  at  all  times  as  ready  to  attend  to  the  calls  of 
the  poor  as  of  the  rich,  and  his  attentions  to  them  were  equally 
kind  and  soothing.  To  all  his  heart  felt  sympathy,  and  he  ad- 
ministered those  consolations  that  contribute  almost  as  much  to 
the  ease  of  the  patient  as  does  the  skill  of  the  physician.  His 
liberality  was  not  confined  to  professional  services ;  he  cheer- 
fully gave  pecuniary  aid  to  those  whom  he  found  in  want,  and 
all  enterprises  of  a  public  or  charitable  nature  found  in  him  a 
ready  contributor  both  of  money  and  time. 

44  His  manner  of  operating  was  perfectly  cool,  composed,  and 
decided.  Though  sympathizing  in  the  sufferings  he  was  called 
on  to  inflict,  he  did  not  allow  that  sympathy  to  influence  him, 
to  hurry  one  step  of  his  operation,  or  to  omit  any  detail  which 
could  contribute  to  its  success." 

In  illustration  of  these  family  affinities,  these  outcrop- 
pings  of  hereditary  strata,  many  other  examples  might 
be  cited  with  effect,  were  there  space  for  the  purpose ; 
but  they  have  been  well  summed  up  in  the  felicitous  and 
discriminating  "  Life  of  Dr.  John  Warren  "  from  the  pen 
of  his  grandson,  Dr.  Buckminster  Brown.1 

In  closing  this  record  of  an  honorable  life  but  little  re- 
mains to  be  said.  The  reader  will  already  have  formed  his 
own  judgment  from  the  facts  presented,  and  no  comment 

1  This  can  be  found  in  the  "  Lives  of  Eminent  American  Physicians  and  Sur- 
geons of  the  Nineteenth  Century,  edited  by  Samuel  D.  Gross,  M.D." 

Dr.  Buckminster  Brown  is  the  son  of  Dr.  John  B.  Brown,  who  married  one  of 
the  four  daughters  of  Dr.  John  Warren  ;  and  his  personal  resemblance  in  features 
and  expression  to  his  distinguished  grandfather  is  very  remarkable. 


302  JONATHAN   MASON   WAEEEN. 

that  could  now  be  added  would  materially  change  his 
views  or  do  much  towards  enlarging  or  contracting  his 
estimate.  Long  before  death  has  overtaken  him  public 
opinion  has  passed  upon  every  man  a  verdict  according  to 
his  merits,  and  this  is  almost  invariably  correct.  To  Dr. 
Warren  few  will  deny  that  the  world  in  which  his  life  was 
passed,  or  at  least  that  portion  thereof  which  knew  him 
best,  early  proffered  its  full  and  ample  approval,  and  that 
future  years  served  but  to  strengthen  this  view  and  to 
justify  it  with  ever  growing  conviction.  Confiding  in  this 
approval,  and  anxious  only  to  show  how  well  it  was  de- 
served, the  writer  of  this  biography  has  striven  but  to 
portray  fitly  the  symmetrical  development  of  a  career 
which  in  all  its  features  was  pure  and  noble,  high  in  its 
mental  and  professional  aims,  and  of  consistent  Christian 
merit. 

At  the  beginning  of  this  attempt  to  perpetuate  the 
name  of  one  who  ever  sought  to  do  his  work  diligently 
and  well,  a  passage  was  cited  setting  forth  the  rightful 
claims  of  the  healing  art  on  those  who  would  become  her 
honorable  votaries.  As  a  fitting^  conclusion  thereto  the 
reader  may  not  be  unwilling  to  accept  a  few  further  words 
of  wisdom,  —  words  of  fervent  cheer  and  truth,  the  final 
legacy  of  one  who  also  was  an  honor  to  his  profession, 
and  who,  grandly  striving  to  the  end  through  a  life  of 
fierce  though  not  ignoble  warfare,  died  in  the  harness,  a 
triumphant  and  laurelled  athlete,  on  the  arena  he  had 
made  so  glorious. 


VELPEAU.  303 


S'il  est  vrai,  cependant,  que  l'homme  actif  use  ainsi  les  deux 
tiers  de  sa  vie  a  conquerir  des  objets  ou  des  jouissances  dont  il 
ne  peut  plus  jouir,  ou  qui  lui  echappent,  une  fois  qu'elles  lui 
sont  decernees,  il  est  vrai  aussi  que  le  travail,  gouverne  par  une 
ambition  legitime,  est  et  sera  toujours  la  principale,  presque  la 
seule  source  reelle  du  bonheur  auquel  il  puisse  pretendre  sur 
terre ;  la  perspective  eloignee,  qu'on  a  sans  cesse  devant  les 
yeux  et  dont  on  se  delecte  le  long  de  la  route,  ne  vaut-elle  pas 
le  bonheur  lui-meme  ?  —  Velpeau. 


APPENDIX. 


A. 

KULES  FOR  THE  DAILY  CONDUCT  OF  LIFE  AND  FOR  PROFES- 
SIONAL PROGRESS,  COMPOSED  AND  WRITTEN  OUT  BY  DR. 
JOHN  C.  WARREN  FOR  THE  BENEFIT  OF  HIS  SON  MASON, 
WHEN  THE  LATTER  WAS  ABOUT  TO  CONTINUE  HIS  STUDIES 
ABROAD. 

The  following  memoranda  are  of  very  different  degrees  of 
importance ;  but  I  have  taken  pains  to  bring  them  together,  and 
I  hope  you  will  find  them  all  sufficiently  important  to  be  worth 
the  remembrance. 

John  C.  Warren. 

Boston,  20  March,  1832. 

I.  Let  no  day  pass  without  an  act  of  devotion  to  the  Supreme 
Being,  to  thank  him  for  his  mercies,  to  beg  his  forgiveness, 
and  to  ask  his  aid  in  all  you  do. 

II.  At  evening  think  of  what  you  have  done  and  learnt  in 
the  day.  Write  every  new  fact  down  in  a  book.  Make  this  an 
unfailing  habit,  and  you  will  find  great  reason  to  be  glad  you 
have  done  it. 

III.  Never  omit  to  attend  public  worship,  in  whatever  coun- 
try you  may  be,  once  at  least  on  a  Sunday,  particularly  in 
France. 

IV.  The  importance  of  a  regular  study  of  the  Bible  is  too 
well  known  to  you  to  need  a  memorandum.  Never  omit  it  on 
account  of  the  presence  of  others.  You  will  find  a  respect  for 
it  the  best  letter  of  recommendation  in  every  Christian  country. 

V.  Give  a  part  of  every  day  to  the  retaining  your  knowledge 
of  Latin,  Greek,  and  natural  philosophy. 

20 


306  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN". 

VI.  When  you  fall  in  company  with  persons  better  ac- 
quainted with  any  branch  of  science  than  yourself,  encourage 
them  by  questions  to  communicate  their  knowledge. 

VII.  Study  the  history  and  topography  of  places  before  you 
visit  them. 

VIII.  When  abroad,  be  cautious  of  new  acquaintances.  Be 
familiar  with  no  man  not  introduced  to  you  by  persons  who 
know  his  history. 

IX.  Search  out  the  learned  and  wise.  Get  introduced  to 
eminent  men  of  science  and  religion.  Pay  them  for  their 
attention  by  information  of  the  botany,  natural  history,  customs, 
and  modes  of  acquiring  knowledge  in  your  own  country. 

X.  Society  requires  effort.  When  you  are  in  good  company 
abroad,  make  a  proper  effort  to  cultivate  acquaintances  and  to 
do  your  part  in  conversation. 

XI.  In  all  your  pursuits,  when  you  have  anything  to  be  done, 
do  it  at  the  earliest  possible  time. 

XII.  Do  your  work  thoroughly.  Superficial  knowledge  is 
of  little  use.  Know  one  thing  well  rather  than  many  im- 
perfectly. 

XIII.  Be  careful  to  arrange  your  course  of  studies  well  be- 
fore you  begin.     Attend  to  those  branches  most  necessary. 

XIV.  Your  attention  will  be  principally  directed  to  the 
practice  of  surgery. 

1.  Treatment  of  surgical  diseases. 

2.  Surgical  operations.     Perform  these  many  times  over  in 
France  with  great  attention  under  a  proper  director. 

3.  Observe  operations.     Get  as  near  as  possible.     Antici- 
pate the  steps. 

4.  Observe  all  surgical  instruments  and  apparatus. 

XV.  Pass  some  time  in  following  attentively  the  practice  of 
some  English  physician.  Notice  the  mode  of  prescribing  care- 
fully, and  write  down  the  prescriptions. 

XVI.  Chemistry  may  be  studied  in  France. 

XVII.  Lectures  on  midwifery  will  not  be  necessary. 

XVIII.  Comparative  anatomy  may  be  studied  in  the  muse- 
ums of  Paris  with  Cuvier  in  your  hand.  The  noble  collec- 
tions of  natural  history  and  mineralogy  should  be  studied  in 
the  same  manner.  The  collections  of  morbid  anatomy  in  Lon- 
don and  Paris  should  be  carefully  and  frequently  visited,  and 


APPENDIX.  307 

notes  of  them  taken.  Anatomical  dissection  not  to  be  pursued 
abroad.  It  can  be  done  at  home,  and  would  occupy  too  much 
time. 

XIX.  Lectures  to  improve  and  invigorate  the  intellectual 
powers  should  be  attended  if  possible.  The  best  of  these  are 
the  lectures  on  the  history  of  philosophy  by  M.  Cousin,  at  Paris. 
I  wish  you  to  get  an  introduction  to  this  gentleman,  and  inform 
him  that  his  lectures  have  produced  a  great  sensation  here ;  that 
they  are  translating  them.  I  should  be  glad  to  open  a  cor- 
respondence with  M.  Cousin.  I  think  General  Lafayette  may 
know  him. 

XX.  Frequent  the  societies,  —  the  Royal  Society,  the  French 
Institute  ;  also  the  medical  debating  societies.  Take  part  in  the 
debates. 

XXI.  Write  home  an  account  of  the  societies,  —  of  the  men 
and  of  the  lectures ;  of  the  private  societies.  Write  once  a  week, 
very  carefully,  as  an  exercise  in  composition,  and  so  as  to  form 
a  regular  suite  of  events.  Write  in  a  very  fair,  large,  and  care- 
ful hand.  Use  ruled  paper.  Keep  the  best  pens.  Your  letters 
will  thus  possess  an  intrinsic  value.  They  will  be  useful  to  me 
and  important  to  yourself  as  memoranda.  Number  your  letters. 
Give  me  minute  details  of  the  following  operations,  as  they  are 
practised  by  those  you  see.  In  fact,  I  wish  a  minute  descrip- 
tion of  every  operation  you  see,  in  order  that  I  may  know  what 
improvements  are  making.  This  will  be  a  substitute  for  my 
going  there. 

1.  Trepan. 

2.  Fistula  lacrymalis. 

3.  Harelip. 

4.  Cataract. 

5.  Suture  of  palate. 

6.  Removal  of  tonsils. 

7.  Extraction  of  nasal  polypi. 

8.  Treatment  of  lateral  curve  of  spine. 

9.  Account  of  hospital  erysipelas.' 

10.  Amputations  of  fingers. 

11.  Other  amputations. 

12.  Excision  of  joints.     See  Mr.  Liston  and  Mr.  Syme  of 
Edinburgh. 

13.  Flap  operation  of  thigh,  how  it  succeeds. 


308  JONATHAN   MASON   WAREEN. 

14.  Fractures.    Attend  Mr.  Amesbury ;  also  for  amputation, 
M.  Lisfranc. 

15.  Lithotrity.     M.  Civiale.     Observe  his  instruments. 

16.  Dressing  of  fistula  in  ano.     Whether  it  is  long  con- 
tinued after  operations. 

17.  Lithotomy  in  England  and  France. 

18.  Treatment  of  hip  diseases,  and  of  white  swelling  in  knee. 

19.  Treatment  of  scrofula. 

20.  Treatment  of  primary  syphilis. 

Whenever  you  see  any  of  these  operations  write  me  a  minute 
account  of  it. 

XXII.  Give  me  regular  accounts  of  the  cholera.  Its  treat- 
ment. Opinion  as  to  contagion.  Be  particular  on  the  different 
points. 

1.  Places  where  it  is. 

2.  Number  of  cases. 

3.  Number  of  deaths. 

4.  How  supposed  to  be  introduced  into  each  place. 

5.  What  precautions  are  taken  against  it. 

XXIII.  In  all  your  statements  be  methodical.  Arrange  in 
your  own  mind  before  you  begin. 

XXIV.  Inform  me  how  the  Temperance  cause  goes  on  in 
London. 

XXV.  An  account  of  the  state  of  religious  improvement  in 
France. 

XXVI.  Health.  Remember  that  Providence  has  ordained 
to  you  a  constitution  that  requires  abstinence.  In  ordinary, 
help  yourself  at  once  to  all  you  mean  to  eat.  When  you  dine 
out  recollect  that  one  single  excess  will  entail  evils  of  months' 
duration.  Be  on  your  guard  against  wine.  No  champagne. 
Take  claret. 

XXVII.  Deposit  your  bills  of  credit  or  exchange  with  your 
banker,  and  draw  out  in  sums  no  more  than  is  required  for 
present  use. 

XXVIII.  The  term  of  your  absence  is  to  be  two  years.  You 
will  return  seasonably  before  the  autumnal  gales.  It  is  impor- 
tant you  should  not  prolong  the  time,  as  in  case  of  accident  to 
me  my  business  would  fall  into  other  hands.  This  will,  of 
course,  operate  as  a  powerful  reason  for  every  exertion  con- 
sistent with  health. 


APPENDIX.  309 

XXIX.  If  I  should  be  called  to  another  world  in  your 
absence,  it  will  be  proper  for  you  to  continue  abroad  the  time 
above  mentioned  ;  for  on  your  due  qualifications  will  depend 
your  ultimate  success  rather  than  on  any  aid  I  could  afford  you. 

XXX.  The  first  part,  and  I  may  say  the  greatest  part,  of 
your  practice  will  be  in  medicine  rather  than  surgery. 

XXXI.  In  addition  to  the  professional  objects  of  3Tour«atten- 
tion  while  abroad,  make  notes  of  every  improvement  that  can 
benefit  your  country.  Recollect  that  you  are  sent  into  this 
world  not  to  promote  your  own  interest  alone,  but  to  perform 
a  certain  part  for  the  good  of  mankind,  and  the  honor  and 
pleasure  of  God.  Therefore  you  ought  to  study  every  object  of 
public  utility  so  far  as  you  can  do  it  without  interfering  with 
your  profession,  to  excel  in  which  is  your  first  object. 

XXXII.  As  far  as  you  can,  give  me  an  account  by  letter  of 
every  such  improvement  or  discovery.  Send  me  without  delay 
every  new  book  containing  anything  very  important,  every  new 
instrument,  etc. ;  particularly,  useful  surgical  instruments,  new 
books  on  surgery,  new  books  on  medicine,  if  important.  A 
single  book  may  be  sent  by  a  private  hand  when  opportunity 
presents.  This  requires  judgment,  but  you  know  my  pursuits 
and  my  wants. 

XXXIII.  Subscribe  my  name  for  the  "Lancet"  and  the 
"  Medical  Gazette "  from  the  beginning  of  the  present  year, 
and  make  arrangements  for  my  getting  them,  as  often  as  they 
come  out,  by  the  mail,  if  not  very  expensive.  For  this  purpose 
confer  with  Mr.  William  C.  Hale,  whose  address  you  will  find 
at  the  end  of  this. 

XXXIV.  Among  other  modes  of  improvement  let  me  coun- 
sel you  — 

1.  To  practise  reading  aloud,  both  in  French  and  English, 
with  a  loud  voice  and  a  most  distinct  articulation. 

2.  To  practise  thinking  by  arranging  your  thoughts  under 
general  heads  and  committing  them  to  paper. 

3.  To  practise  composition,  which  will  be  done  by  writing 
out  your  thoughts  at  length  in  manuscript  books  and  in  your 
correspondence. 

XXXV.  Observe  the  manner  and  mode  of  different  lecturers, 
whether  they  use  notes  or  not,  and  every  circumstance  that  can 
improve  my  lectures.     For  example, 


310  JONATHAN   MASON   WAKKEN. 

Whether  they  have  any  person  to  aid  them  in  doing  opera- 
tions on  the  dead  body  before  a  class. 

How  they  manage  dissecting-room  demonstrations  ;  making 
preparations  ;  demonstrating  different  parts,  as  nerves  and  deep- 
seated  viscera. 

These  things  will  become  very  common  to  you  ;  but  to  me 
they  will  be  very  interesting,  and  you  may  safely  write  in  the 
fullest  manner. 

XXXVI.  Dr.  Mussey  made  a  collection  of  morbid  bones  in 
Paris  for  about  S100.  Attend  to  this  subject  and  to  every  val- 
uable acquisition  in  anatomy.  You  may  purchase  one  first-rate 
male  skeleton.  Be  very  particular  to  look  up  a  fine,  whole, 
perfect,  intellectual  cranium  with  high  forehead  and  other 
characters  of  the  most  perfect  European  or  Caucasian  organi- 
zation.    Send  this  by  first  occasion. 

XXXVII.  While  abroad  take  every  opportunity  of  establish- 
ing permanent  correspondence  with  medical  and  scientific  men. 
To  increase  useful  acquaintances,  join  such  societies  as  are  open 
to  you. 

XXXVIII.  In  France  your  first  business  is  to  acquire  the  lan- 
guage ;  your  next  to  guard  against  those  impositions  which  are 
thought  legitimate  towards  strangers.  Never  be  angry  when 
they  try  to  impose  upon  you,  but  look  out  the  more  keenly. 

These  thoughts  I  have  set  down  as  they  occurred  to  me,  with- 
out much  method.  I  might  have  added  many  and  perhaps 
more  valuable  hints  than  are  here  contained ;  but  if  I  had  much 
increased  the  number,  the  burden  of  recollection  would  have 
been  increased.  If  you  observe  what  is  written  and  keep  it, 
you  will,  I  trust  and  believe,  by  the  aid  of  the  Author  of  all 
good,  lead  a  prosperous  and  happy  life. 

Your  affectionate  father, 

John  C.  Wabeen. 

March  24,  1832. 

Deus,  a  quo  sancta  desideria,  recta  consilia  et  justa  sunt 
opera,  da  servis  illam  quam  mundus  non  potest,  pacem ;  ut  et 
corda  nostra  manclatis  tuis  dedita,  et  hostium  sublata  formi- 
dine,  tempora  sint  tua  protectione  tranquilla.  Per  Dominum 
nostrum  Jesum  Christum  filium  tuum,  qui  tecum  vivit  in  secula 
seculorum.     Amen. 


APPENDIX.  311 


B. 


Though  the  house  No.  2  Park  Street,  formerly  the  home  of 
Dr.  John  C.  Warren  and  his  descendants,  has  now  disappeared 
from  view,  the  interesting  memories  which  it  must  long  con- 
tinue to  awaken  in  the  minds  of  many  will,  it  is  hoped,  be 
deemed  a  sufficient  excuse  for  the  minute  description  thereof 
here  given.  The  mere  name  and  position  of  its  occupants 
during  the  seventy-two  years  of  its  existence  gradually  acquired 
for  it  a  semi-historical  distinction,  while  in  the  community  at 
large  it  never  ceased  to  enjoy  a  certain  fame  for  the  abundant 
and  refined  hospitality  dispensed  within  its  walls.  To  the 
members  of  the  Warren  family  now  living  and  their  numerous 
connections  it  is,  of  course,  still  more  closely  endeared  as  the 
scene  of  so  many  events,  either  joyful  or  melancholy,  which 
have  served  as  epochs  to  mark  their  onward  progress  in  life. 

This  house  —  in  which  Dr.  Jonathan  Mason  Warren  was 
born  and  in  which  he  died  —  was  situated  on  land  that  in 
old  times  was  a  portion  of  the  Common,  which  was  originally 
bounded  on  the  north  and  east  by  the  present  line  of  Beacon 
Street,  and  extended  to  the  salt  marshes  at  its  foot.  Though 
this  avenue  was  continued  from  the  head  of  the  present  Somer- 
set Street  to  the  water  in  1733,  it  could  not  have  been  well 
known  or  highly  esteemed,  since  it  is  described  simply  as  "the 
lane  or  street  leading  from  School  Street  to  the  almshouse," 1 
in  a  deed  dated  April  11,  1750,  by  which,  for  the  sum  of  £380, 
—  John  Sale,  executor,  conveyed  to  Samuel  Sturgis  the  lot, 
"  measuring  150  feet  on  said  lane  and  70  feet  on  Tremont  Street," 
on  which  the  Albion  now  stands.  As  far  back  as  1662  the 
town  had  decided  to  use  for  the  site  of  an  almshouse  the  lot  at 
the  corner  of  Beacon  and  Park  Streets  as  at  present  defined, 
which  is  now  occupied  by  the  Ticknor  Building  and  the  edifice 
adjoining  (lately  converted  into  stores  and  offices),  and  from 
that  time  all  the  slope  from  thence  to  Tremont  Street  along  the 
present  line  of  Park  Street  was  gradually  appropriated  to  civic 

1  This  description  fails  to  confirm  the  statement  in  the  Keport  of  the  Joint 
Standing  Committee  on  Ordinances  on  the  Nomenclature  of  Streets,  dated  Dec.  26, 
1879,  that  in  1708  the  present  Beacon  Street  bore  the  name  of  School  Street  "  to 
the  head  of  the  present  Somerset  Street." 


312  JONATHAN    MASON    WARREN. 

uses,  until  the  last  remaining  space  was  devoted  to  a  public 
granaiy,  which  was  erected  in  1737  where  Park  Street  Church 
now  stands.  The  territory  between  the  two  structures  just 
mentioned  was  covered  by  a  workhouse,  a  bridewell  or  house  of 
correction,  and  a  pound,  the  latter  being  nearest  to  the  granary 
and  located  on  the  land  on  which  the  Quincy  family  lately 
resided.  The  Granary  Burying-ground  was  in  the  rear  of  these 
buildings,  which  fronted  on  the  Common  and  were  barely  sepa- 
rated therefrom  by  a  narrow  and  ill-defined  way,  upon  which  in 
1784  had  been  conferred  the  name  of  Centry  Street,  from  the 
fact  that  it  led  up  to  Centry  Hill,  as  the  top  of  Beacon  Hill  was 
then  termed. 

On  the  25th  of  May,  1795,  the  town  passed  a  vote  that  the 
public  land  on  Centry  Street  and  the  buildings  upon  it  should 
be  sold  at  public  auction.  To  this  they  were  moved  by  various 
considerations,  not  the  least  being  the  fact  that  the  Common- 
wealth had  decided  to  begin  the  erection  of  a  new  State  House, 
worthy  of  its  distinguished  fame  and  dignity,  near  the  head  of 
that  street ;  and  it  was  by  no  means  becoming  that  the  splendor 
of  such  an  edifice  should  look  down  upon  the  collected  sin,  pov- 
erty, and  misery  of  the  town  within  a  few  feet  of  its  entrance. 
At  the  same  time  it  was  decided  to  grade  Centry  Street  and 
widen  it  by  taking  another  portion  of  land  from  the  Common, 
and  thus  transform  it  into  a  broad  and  handsome  approach  to 
the  rising  Capitol,  and  to  the  mansions  of  various  wealthy  citi- 
zens who  lived  in  that  vicinity.  In  the  month  of  November 
of  the  year  last  named,  the  first  sale  was  made  under  the  au- 
thority of  the  above  vote  ;  and  the  lot  then  covered  by  the  gran- 
ary, bounding  118  feet  on  Centry  Street,  and  thence  running  to 
the  burying-ground,  was  conveyed  to  Henry  Jackson  by  deed 
dated  November  10,  for  the  sum  of  $8,366,  subject  to  the  condi- 
tion "  that  all  buildings  to  be  erected  on  said  premises  shall 
be  regular  and  uniform  with  the  other  buildings  that  may  be 
erected  on  the  other  Jots  in  the  parcel  of  land  of  which  the 
premises  are  a  part,  as  aforesaid,  and  that  they  be  of  brick  or 
stone,  and  covered  with  slate  or  tile,  or  some  other  materials 
that  will  resist  fire."  This  proviso,  of  course,  put  it  in  the 
power  of  the  first  builder  on  any  one  of  these  lots,  the  deeds  of 
which  all  contained  the  same  clause,  to  dictate  to  all  succeed- 
ing purchasers  who   built  after  him   the   type   they  were  to 


APPENDIX.  313 

follow.  It  was  the  first  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  town  to 
secure  uniformity  of  plan  and  material  for  its  street  architecture 
from  any  of  its  grantees.  Oddly  enough,  as  the  Park  Street 
Church  was  not  begun  till  the  year  1809,  the  society  was 
obliged  to  adapt  its  style  to  that  of  the  houses  which  had 
already  been  built  on  the  adjoining  lots.  This  was  done  so  far 
as  possible,  though  the  edifice  resembled  these  formerly  more 
than  it  does  now,  as  it  was  afterwards  raised  one  story  in  order 
to  provide  a  vestry  and  other  necessary  accommodations. 

The  second  sale  of  the  Park  Street  land  by  the  town  was  in 
1801,  when,  by  deed  dated  March  24,  the  lot  next  to  the  granary, 
running  seventy-eight  feet  on  Centry  Street,  and  bounded  in  the 
rear  by  the  graveyard,  was  sold,  subject  to  the  above  restrictions, 
for  $6,100,  to  General  Arnold  Welles,  who  was,  as  has  been  al- 
ready stated,  a  near  friend  and  connection  of  the  Warren  family, 
having  married  Elizabeth,  the  oldest  daughter  and  third  child  of 
General  Joseph  Warren.  On  the  southeasterly  half  of  his  pur- 
chase, General  Welles  soon  reared  a  substantial  dwelling,  three 
stories  high  and  thirty-nine  feet  wide,  of  very  plain  design  both 
without  and  within,  which  now  (A.  D.  1886)  remains  pretty  much 
as  he  built  it.  About  the  same  time  he  contracted  to  sell  the 
other  half  of  his  lot  to  Isaac  P.  Davis,  who  had  made  a  fortune 
in  the  rope  business,  on  condition  that  said  Davis  should  pro- 
ceed forthwith  to  erect  thereon  a  house  of  the  same  model  as  his 
own.  This  was  done,  and  Mr.  Davis  became  the  owner  of  the 
land  by  deed  dated  Aug.  5,  1805,  in  consideration  of  the  sum 
of  $5,000.  These  two  houses  and  three  others  adjoining  formed 
the  fifth  block  of  continuous  brick  residences  up  to  that  date 
constructed  in  Boston,  and  they  were  all  completed  at  nearly 
the  same  time.  For  that  period  they  were  really  stately  and 
admirable  in  their  features  and  appointments,  and  from  their 
impressive  aspect  well  deserved  to  be  styled  mansions. 

The  house  built  by  Mr.  Davis,  however,  remained  but  a  very 
short  time  in  his  possession,  as  he  was  obliged  to  dispose  of  it  in 
consequence  of  reverses  in  business.  By  a  deed  dated  Sept. 
27,  1805,  he  conveyed  the  premises  "  situated  in  Park  Place, 
so  called,"  —  though  in  the  same  document  it  is  described  as 
bounding  "thirty-nine  feet  on  Centry  Street " — to  Jonathan 
Mason,  whose  daughter  Dr.  John  C.  Warren  had  married  Nov. 
17,  1803.     The  new  owner  at  once  allowed  the  young  couple  to 


314  JONATHAN   MASON   WARREN. 

occupy  it,  and  thither  they  removed  in  the  month  of  October, 
1805.  There  they  continued  to  dwell  till  Mr.  Mason's  death, 
when  it  was  found  that  he  had  left  it  to  his  daughter  Mrs. 
Warren.  After  the  decease  of  the  latter  it  came  to  her  children 
by  descent,  as  she  left  no  will ;  and  Dr.  Warren,  their  father, 
bought  their  respective  interests  therein,  thus  becoming  the 
owner  thereof  absolutely.  At  his  death  he  bequeathed  this 
"mansion  house  in  Park  Street,  valued  at  840,000,"  to  his  son 
Mason  in  fee  simple,  from  whom  it  ultimately  passed  by  his  will 
to  Mrs.  Warren  for  life,  with  remainder  to  his  children. 

The  Warren  mansion  from  the  first  took  high  rank  among 
the  Boston  residences,  and  there  were  few  that  surpassed  or 
even  equalled  it  in  size  and  pretensions.  The  front,  though 
plain  and  void  of  the  least  ornament,  was  broad  and  ample  in 
outline,  with  large  windows.  The  interior  was  spacious,  but 
afforded  from  every  point  of  view  the  strongest  possible  con- 
trast to  the  elaborate  elegance  and  luxury  of  the  present  day, 
and  to  that  form  of  dwelling  now  in  vogue,  which  not  only 
exhausts  all  the  resources  of  art  and  taste,  but  economizes  every 
inch  of  available  room  in  the  attempt  to  increase  the  general 
effect.  A  modern  architect  would  have  been  in  despair  at  the 
arrangement  of  the  interior  of  the  Warren  house,  so  plentiful  was 
the  room  and  so  little  account  was  made  thereof,  so  abundant 
were  the  opportunities  presented  and  so  coolly  were  they  ignored. 
The  plan,  if  so  it  could  justly  be  termed,  was  rambling  and  in- 
congruous, and  there  were  few  pretences  to  architectural  char- 
acter or  harmony  of  detail.  Both  style  and  convenience  were 
conspicuous  for  their  absence.  Clumsy  and  useless  nooks, 
lumbering  projections  and  incongruities,  heavy  mouldings, 
awkward  turnings,  and  "  passages  that  led  to  nothing,"  were 
its  prominent  features.  The  partition  walls  were  absurdly 
thick,  the  ceilings  low,  and  all  the  apartments  dark,  except 
those  in  front.  The  quantity  and  solidity  of  the  material 
employed  in  the  structure  might  well  lead  one  to  believe  that 
the  designer  had  planned  quite  as  much  for  posterity  as  for  his 
more  immediate  patrons,  or  perhaps  had  in  mind  one  of  those 
"  eternal  abodes  "  which  the  ancient  Egyptians  were  wont  to 
prepare  for  their  dead.  On  the  left  of  the  main  entrance  was 
a  room  of  goodly  size  with  an  air  of  ancient  and  prosperous 
dignity  which   Dr.  Warren   used   as   a   study,    while   on    the 


APPENDIX.  315 

opposite  side  his  waiting  patients  were  impounded  in  a  long  and 
narrow  alcove,  Where  they  awaited  their  doom,  —  a  sort  of 
"  cave  of  Adullam."  Under  the  study  was  formerly  a  retreat  for 
the  use  of  the  students,  where  prescriptions  were  prepared  and 
various  medical  and  surgical  work  was  done.  Behind  the  study 
extended  the  kitchen  and  other  domestic  appurtenances.  From 
the  back  windows  of  the  house  one  overlooked  the  Granary 
Burying-ground,  and  the  rears  of  all  the  other  dwellings  around 
it,  which  gave  the  impression  that  they  had  turned  their  backs 
upon  the  cemetery,  and  were  doing  their  best  to  flee  from 
it  as  fast  as  possible.  The  prospect  was  but  dismal  under  any 
aspect,  and  was  hardly  enlivened  by  the  granite  shaft  in  the 
centre,  though  it  bore  the  name  of  Boston's  advanced  liberal 
and  patriotic  pioneer,  Franklin.  From  the  dining-room  of  Dr. 
John  C.  Warren,  which  at  a  later  date  was  used  also  as  a  library, 
could  likewise  be  seen  the  tombs  of  Governor  Hancock  and 
Governor  Bellingham,  of  Judge  Sewall  and  Jeremy  Belknap, 
of  Phillipses  and  Quincys,  of  Cabots  and  Amorys,  and  the  last 
earthly  resting-places  of  hundreds  of  other  worthies,  clerical  or 
medical,  political  or  social,  who  had  here  returned  to  the  bosom 
of  that  mother  from  which  they  came.  Last,  but  not  least 
among  them,  ranked  that  final  home  of  the  Minots,  almost 
touching  the  wall  of  Dr.  Warren's  house,  in  which  were  placed 
the  remains  of  General  Joseph  Warren  immediately  after  their 
removal  from  Bunker  Hill  in  the  spring  of  1776,  and  in  which 
they  rested  till  1824.  Thus  the  Doctor's  guests  did  not  meet  at 
his  table  without  the  presence  of  a  perpetual  memento  mori 
which,  like  the  coffin  placed  by  Nelson  at  the  head  of  his 
cabin,  kept  their  common  mortality  forever  in  mind,  and,  if  it 
failed  to  serve  any  other  purpose,  might  at  least  recall  the  pos- 
sible consequences  of  an  over-indulgence- 
Passing  to  the  front  of  the  edifice,  one  was  impressed  with  a 
prompt  and  striking  contrast.  The  parlors  at  the  head  of  one 
flight  of  stairs  and  the  two  chambers  above  them  overlooked  the 
Common,  sloping  in  a  gentle  and  verdurous  expanse  to  the  water 
that  then  lapped  its  lower  boundary.  For  a  long  time  after  Dr. 
John  C.  Warren  began  to  occupy  the  site  there  were  but  three 
trees  on  Park  Street,  the  present  mall  having  been  first  planted 
in  1826  by  Mayor  Quincy  ;  nor  do  the  elms  he  then  set  out  hold 
by  any  means  the  lowest  place  among  the  numerous  benefactions 


316  JONATHAN  MASON   WARREN. 

with  which  his  far-sighted  public  spirit  enriched  his  native  town. 
Thus  the  view  from  Dr.  Warren's  windows  towards  the  west 
was  impeded  by  nothing  but  the  Great  Elm,  the  flagstaff-hill, 
and  the  monotonous  continuity  of  the  half-dozen  rope-walks  on 
piles  in  the  marshes,  till  it  crossed  the  glittering  water  and 
reached  the  Blue  Hills  of  Milton.  On  the  afternoons  of  winter 
and  the  early  spring,  the  setting  sun  presented  to  the  spectator 
a  prospect  seldom  equalled,  as  its  changing  splendors  liveried  the 
whole  west,  and  added  new  and  untold  beauties  to  the  features 
of  a  landscape  so  enchanting. 

In  addition  to  these  advantages  it  should  be  stated  that  the 
situation  of  the  structure  was  excellent  from  every  sanitary  as- 
pect, and  peculiarly  good,  professionally  speaking,  as  it  was 
both  central  and  accessible,  and  during  the  life  of  Dr.  John 
Warren,  who  lived  on  School  Street,  had  the  further  benefit  of 
his  vicinity. 

The  house  retained  all  its  original  features  unaltered  until  the 
spring  of  1877,  when  it  was  demolished  to  make  room  for  the 
present  "  Warren  Building."  It  came  into  the  hands  of  Dr. 
Mason  Warren  after  his  father's  death  in  1856,  when  he  removed 
to  it  from  the  dwelling  he  was  then  occupying  at  No.  6  on  the 
same  street.  It  is  almost  superfluous  to  say  how  much  he  liked 
it ;  how  deeply  he  felt  the  pride  of  its  possession,  and  how  strong 
was  his  attachment  to  the  very  bricks  of  which  it  was  built. 
While  he  owned  it  he  desired  that  everything  should  remain  as 
his  father  left  it,  and  nothing  disturbed  from  its  original  plan 
and  condition.  The  busts  and  pictures  even  were  not  to  be 
moved  from  the  places  they  were  wont  to  hold,  and  which  habit 
had  so  much  endeared  to  his  eyes.  As  it  had  been  to  his  father, 
so  it  should  be  to  him  ;  and  in  his  will  he  requested  that  all 
things  should  continue  as  they  were,  so  long  as  the  house  was 
tenanted  by  the  family.  Even  when  death  had  given  him  his 
final  summons  he  rallied  sufficiently  to  walk  with  some  help  to 
the  window  and  gaze,  as  his  father  had  done  before  him,  with 
unutterable  and  regretful  longing  on  the  prospect  which  he  was 
never  to  see  again,  and  which  he  felt  the  keenest  distress  to 
leave,  even  though  the  departing  sun  seemed  already  to  be  mar- 
shalling his  way  to  the  bright  glories  and  celestial  happiness 
of  another  world. 


INDEX. 


INDEX. 


Some  pains  has  been  taken  to  make  the  following  list  accurate  and  complete.  Owing  to 
the  social  and  professional  position  of  Dr.  Warren,  he  was  brought  into  relations  more  or  less 
intimate  with  many  persons  well  known  to  fame  in  various  ways,  both  at  home  and  abroad, 
whose  names  have  been  mentioned,  though  often  but  cursorily,  in  the  foregoing  memoir.  Of 
these  some  have  been  partly,  others  almost  wholly  forgotten,  while  the  remembrance  of  all 
has  been  somewhat  dimmed  by  the  mists  of  time.  In  thus  seeking  to  identify  them  and 
summon  them  back  to  the  present,  it  has  been  thought  that  at  least  a  momentary  and  con- 
tingent interest  may  be  excited  in  the  minds  of  those  who  like  to  repeople  their  memories 
with  the  shadows  of  the  past. 


ABBOTSFORD,  61. 
Abercrombie,  John,  M.D.,  199. 
Abernethy,  John,  Mr.,  187. 
Academy  of  Medicine,  99. 
Adams,  Hon.  Charles  Francis,  19  note. 
Address  before  the  Massachusetts  Medical 

Society  in  1864,  254,  255  and  note. 
Adelaide,  Princesse  d'Orleans,  155. 
Agassiz,  J.  L.  Rudolphe,  199  note. 
Agricola,  59. 

Albinus,  Bernard  Siegfried,  M.D.,  176. 
Allibone's  Dictionary  of  English  Litera- 
ture, 254  note. 
America,  alleged  manners  and  customs  in 

1832,  113-116  ;  reputation  of,  in  Europe 

in  1832,  115,  116. 
American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences, 

265. 
American  claims  against  France,  204,  205, 

207. 
American   Journal   of   Medical   Science, 

256  note. 
American  Medical  Association,  264. 
American  Medical  Convention,  233. 
American  students  in  Paris,  111,  112,  113, 

270. 
Amesbury,  Joseph,  Mr.,  308. 
Amsterdam,  176. 

Amussat,  Jean-Zule'ma,  99,  105,  138,  161. 
Ancestors  of  Dr.  Warren,  44. 
Andral,   Gabriel,  M.D.,  79,  105,  138  and 

note,  167,  269. 
Andreini,  Vincenzo,  M.D.,  164. 
Andrew,  Gov.  John  A.,  255  note. 
Appleton,  Thomas  G.,  145  note. 
Appleton,  William,  51  note,  245  note. 
Apthorp,  Col.  John  T.,  7  note. 
Arago,  199. 

Arctic,  survivors  of  the,  244,  285. 
Arnott,  Neil,  M.D.,  200. 


Arnould-Plessy,  Mme.,  135. 
Asylum  for  the  Blind,  71. 
Auber,  132. 
Audouin,  Jean- Victor,  138. 


BABBAGE,  Charles,  199. 
Babington,  George  G.,  Mr.,  62,  71, 
183. 

Baffos,  Remi-Louis,  M.D.,  207. 

Baillot,  151. 

Baird,  Rev.  Robert,  D.D.,  127  note. 

Ballingall,  Sir  George,  197. 

Balzac,  110. 

Bancroft,  George,  13. 

Bandaging,  205,  206. 

Barbedienne,  283. 

Barnard,  George  M.,  145  note. 

Barre,  Mme.  Debris  de,  194. 

Bartlett,  Josiah,  M.D.,  234. 

Basle,  243. 

Bates,  Joshua,  200  and  note. 

Bates,  Joshua,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  178. 

Bath,  188. 

Beacon  Street,  311  and  note. 

Beaumont,  William,  M.D.,  202. 

Beck,  Prof.  Charles,  13. 

Belgium,  176. 

Belknap,  Jeremy,  D.D.,  315. 

Bell,  Sir  Charles,  M.D.,  57,  65,  180,  188, 
199. 

Bellingham,  Gov.  Richard,  315. 

Bellini,  132. 

Bemis,  J.  W.,  M.D.,  234. 

Bennati,  Francesco,  M.D.,  188. 

Be'ranger,  80. 

Berne,  162,  243. 

Bernhard,  Duke  Charles,  of  Saxe- Weimar- 
Eisenach,  116  note. 

Bethlehem  Hospital,  71. 


320 


INDEX. 


Bethune,  George  A.,  M.D.,  128. 

Bickersteth,  Robert,  Mr.,  55. 

Bigelow,  Henry  J.,  M.D.,  223,  257,  265. 

Bigelow,  Jacob,  M.D.,  143,  145  and  note, 
229  note,  232  note,  243  note,  256. 

Birmingham,  55,  56,  62. 

Bitton,  62. 

Black  Draught,  34. 

Blainville,  Henri-Marie  Ducrotay  de,  106, 
138. 

Blanchard,  Edward,  145  note. 

Blumenbach,  Johann  Friedrich,  M.D.,  70, 
146,  176. 

Board  of  Medical  Examiners,  264. 

Bceuf  Gras,  153. 

Boivin,  Mme.  Marie  A.  V.  G.,  140. 

Bologna,  163. 

Bonaparte,  152. 

Bonaparte,  Mme.  Patterson,  147. 

Boott,  Francis,  M.D.,  64  and  note,  178, 
179. 

Boott,  Mrs.  Kirk,  145  note. 

Boott,  Miss  Sarah,  145  note. 

Boston,  Sunday  in,  51 ;  in  London,  58  ; 
cholera  in,  61  ;  contrast  with  Paris, 
74  ;  in  1825,  116  note  ;  Frenchman's  oc- 
cupation in,  on  Sunday,  127  note  ;  in 
1835,  214-216  and  note ;  its  need  of 
a  surgeon,  221  ;  its  fashionable  cir- 
cles, 233;  Sir  James  Y.  Simpson,  243 
note. 

Boston  Medical  Association,  258. 

Boston  Society  of  Medical  Improvement, 
265. 

Boston  Society  of  Natural  History,  265. 

Bouillaud,  Jean-Baptiste,  M.D.,  107. 

Bowditch,  Henry  I.,  M.D.,  graduates  at 
the  Medical  School  with  Dr.  Warren, 
47  ;  attends  lectures  with  Dr.  Warren, 
78  ;  a  student  in  Paris,  112 ;  impressions 
of  Dr.  Warren  in  Paris,  120 ;  at  the 
Trois  Freres,  128 ;  reference  to,  160 ; 
remembrance  of  Mme.  Lachapelle,  205 
note ;  explanation  of  Dr.  Warren's  ill- 
ness, 254 ;  tribute  to  Dr.  Warren,  268- 
271  ;  opinions  of  Dr.  Warren,  273, 
277. 

Bowditch,  N.  I.,  160,  232  note. 

Bowring,  Sir  John,  150. 

Boyer,  Alexis,  78,  85,  87  note. 

Boylston  Medical  Society,  264. 

Boylston  Prize  Committee,  264. 

Bradbury,  Charles,  6  note. 

Bradlee,  Josiah,  296. 

Bradlee,  Mrs.  Josiah,  250  note. 

Braes  of  Balquhidder,  60. 

Braithwaite,  Miss  Anna,  179 

Brand,  the  sta^hound,  61. 

Breen,  John,  M.D.,  191,  192,  193,  196. 

Breschet,  Gilbert,  M.D.,  146  note,  147. 

Brewer,  Gardner,  57,  257. 

Brigham,  Benjamin,  8. 

Bright,  Richard,  M.D.,  65,  186. 

Brighton,  England,  63,  72,  77. 

Brillat-Savarin,  131. 

Bristol,  188. 


British  Association  at  Edinburgh,  1834, 
188,  198,  199  and  note ;  at  Liverpool  in 
1854,  243. 

Brocard,  Mile.,  135. 

Brodie,  Sir  Benjamin  C,  180,  183,  185, 
186. 

Brookline,  247. 

Brougham,  58. 

Brown,  Buckminster,  M.D.,  301  note. 

Brown,  John  B.,  M.D.,  139,  301  note. 

Bunker  Hill,  battle  of,  185. 

Bunker  Hill  Monument,  149. 

Bunker  Hill  Monument  Association,  265. 

Burke,  242. 

Buxton,  61. 


pAB  for  Dr.  John  C.  Warren,  140,  143, 

^     165,  201,  203. 

Cabot,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Samuel,  145. 

Cabot,  Samuel,  M.D.,  258. 

Cadet  Regiment,  251. 

Cairnes,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  144. 

Callaway,  Thomas,  Mr.,  182. 

Cambridge,  58. 

Capping  verses,  9. 

Carlisle,  cholera  at,  60  note. 

Carlyle,  56  note,  60  note. 

Carnival  in  Paris,  1833,  152-154. 

Carter,  Master  James,  31  note. 

Castle  Hill,  39. 

Castlereagh,  61. 

Cataract,  Roux's  method,  95 ;  Liston's, 
197  ;  at  the  Ophthalmic  Hospital, 
184. 

Centry  Hill,  312. 

Centry  Street,  312,  313. 

Chamonix,  162,  243. 

Charles  X.,  79. 

Charleston,  52. 

Chatham,  261. 

Chatsworth,  61. 

Chervin,  Nicolas,  M.D.,  98  note. 

Chester,  55. 

Chesterfield,  261. 

Chinese  heads,  203. 

Chirac,  Pierre,  M.D.,  84  note. 

Chloric  ether,  231. 

Cholera  in  1832,  53  ;  in  Paris,  54,  68 ;  in 
England,  56 ;  at  Glasgow,  60 ;  at  New 
York,  Philadelphia,  and  Boston,  60  and 
note  ;  at  Manchester,  etc.,  62  ;  London, 
65,  66,  67 ;  treatment  of,  in  England, 
65  ;  saline  treatment,  65,  66,  68 ;  in 
Liverpool,  67  ;  at  the  State's  prison, 
69,  71  ;  Dr.  Stevens's  method,  65  ; 
in  Dublin,  196-198;  in  Great  Britain, 
201. 

Chomel,  Auguste-Francois,  M.D.,  79, 107, 
138,  160,  269. 

Christmas  in  1832,  151. 

Civiale,  Jean,  62,  78,  97,  98,  99  and  note, 
146  note,  243,  268  note,  308. 

Civita  Vecchia,  247. 

Clark,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Benjamin  C,  148. 

Clarke,  Sir  James,  M.D.,  58,  67. 


INDEX. 


321 


Class  of  1830,  29  note. 

Classical  Journal,  8. 

Cleveland,  Henry  R.,  144. 

Clift,  William,  M.D.,  179,  180,  181. 

Cloquet,  Ernest,  M.D.,  105,  143. 

Clothilde,  135. 

Clyde,  Falls  of  the,  60. 

Cobbett,  William,  180. 

Cobden,  Richard,  210  note. 

Coffin,  Admiral  Sir  Isaac,  Bart.,  9, 17  note. 

Cogswell,  Joseph  Green,  LL.D.,  13,  215 
note. 

College  of  France,  79. 

College  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons  of 
the  State  of  New  York,  265. 

Colles,  Abraham,  M.D.,  195. 

Collins,  Gov.  John,  39. 

Collins,  John  C,  M.D.,  192. 

Collis,  Maurice,  Mr.,  223  note,  256  note. 

Columbian  Centinel,  17. 

Common,  Boston,  315. 

Como,  162. 

Confessions  of  Saint  Augustine,  142. 

Conservatoire  de  Musique,  151,  153. 

Cooper,  Sir  Astley  Paston,  Bart.,  anecdote 
of,  25  note  ;  friendship  for  the  Warrens, 
25  note  ;  visited  by  Dr.  Warren  in  Lon- 
don, 56 ;  breakfast  with,  57 ;  resem- 
blance to  Mr.  George  Peabody,  57  note ; 
description  of,  57 ;  interviews  of,  with 
Dr.  Warren,  62,  63,  64,  66,  69  ;  anecdote 
of  Larrey,  86  note ;  character  of,  101 ; 
commendation  of  Dr.  Warren,  119  ; 
praise  of  Dr.  Mott,  159  note;  further 
description,  179;  message  to  Dr.  John 
C.  Warren,  180  ;  the  aorta  tied  by  him, 
181 ;  surgical  ideas,  182 ;  card  to  Mr. 
Guthrie,  184 ;  Dr.  Warren  dines  with 
him,  185  ;  portrait  by  Sir  Thomas  Law- 
rence, 186;  Dr.  John  C.  Warren's  early 
opinion  of,  192  ;  at  the  meeting  of  the 
British  Association  in  Edinburgh,  197  ; 
visit  to  Paris  in  1834, 202  and  note ;  trait 
of,  295 ;  account  by  Dr.  John  C.  War- 
ren, 296  note. 

Cooper,  Bransby  Blake,  Mr.,  183. 

Cooper,  Colonel,  185. 

Cooper,  James  Fenimore,  148  note. 

Cooper,  Robert  Bransby,  M.P.,  185. 

Cooper,  William,  Mr.,  25  note. 

Cork  Street  Fever  Hospital,  192,  196. 

Correspondence  of  Dr.  Warren,  155. 

Cossacks,  152. 

Cousin,  79,  143,  175,  307. 

Covent  Garden  Theatre,  58. 

Cromwell,  259. 

Crowninshield,  Miss  Anna  Caspar,  225. 

(rowninshield,  Hon.  Benjamin  W.,  225. 

Cruveilhier,  Jean,  M.D.,  198. 

Cuba,  36,  37. 

Curtis,  George  T.,  238. 

Curtis,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thomas  B.,  145  note. 

Cusack,  James  W.,  Mr.,  195. 

Cussy,  Marquis  de,  131. 

Cuvier,  Frede'ric,  M.D.,  140. 

Cuvier,  Georges,  Baron,  53,  240,  306. 


DAGNAN,  146. 
Daguerre,  170,  228. 

Daily  Advertiser,  17. 

Dalton,  John,  199. 

Dandie  Dinmont,  61. 

Dautel,  Mile.  Henriette-Virginie,  169  note. 

Daremberg,  Charles- Victor,  M.D.,  1. 

Darlington,  58. 

Daubigny,  Charles  Francois,  169  note. 

Daubigny,  Edme  Francois,  169  note. 

D'aubigny,  Pierre,  169,  170. 

D'aubigny,  Mme.,  ne'e  Amelie  Dautel, 
169. 

Davis,  Edward  G.,  M.D.,  203. 

Davis,  Mr.  Isaac  P.,  313. 

Davis,  Mrs.  Isaac  P.,  283. 

Deaf  and  Dumb  Asylum,  71. 

Delavalette,  Jean-Louis- Achille,  of  Senlis, 
148  note. 

Delavigne,  Casimir,  135. 

Denonvilliers,  Charles-Pierre,  207. 

Deville,  James,  70,  71,  207. 

Dieffenbach,  Jean  Frede'ric,  M.D.,  106 
note,  201,  202  note. 

Dieppe,  63,  72,  73,  243. 

Dixwell,  Epes  Sargent,  7. 

Doggett,  Mrs.  Elizabeth,  widow  of  Noah, 
283  note. 

Dominie  Sampson,  61. 

Donizetti,  132. 

Downes, ,  M.D.,  113. 

Dress  of  Dr.  Warren,  171,  172. 

Dublin,  67,  158,  168,  191,  196-198. 

Dublin  Quarterly  Journal  of  Medical 
Science,  195  note,  222  note,  268. 

Dubois,  Antoine,  Baron,  100-102, 147, 151. 

Dumas,  135. 

Dumeril,  Andre'-Marie-Constant,  M.D.,  78, 
106. 

Dumfries,  60  note. 

Dun,  Sir  Patrick's  Hospital,  193. 

Du  Pui,  M.  S.,  M.D.,  176,  177. 

Dupuytren,  Guillaume,  Baron,  anecdotes 
of,  by  Sir  Astley  Cooper,  58 ;  letter  to, 
from  Sir  Astley  Cooper,  62;  Dr.  War- 
ren's first  sight  of,  78 ;  at  Hotel  Dieu, 
79 ;  abuse  of  Lisfranc,  83 ;  operations 
and  style,  84-86  ;  peculiarities,  87  ;  rem- 
iniscences of,  from  Dr.  John  C.  Warren, 
87  note ;  Dr.  Warren  calls  on  him,  89 ; 
death,  90;  funeral,  91;  his  rival,  Lis- 
franc, 92 ;  abilities,  95, 101, 104;  autopsy 
by  Dupuytren,  107  ;  greatness,  131, 138  ; 
his  "  Clinique,"  139 ;  his  "  Urethro- 
tome," 143 ;  brilliancy,  158  and  note  ; 
discourtesy,  159  ;  lectures,  160  ;  refuted 
by  Sir  Astley  Cooper,  179 ;  opinion  of 
Mr.  Key,  188 ;  illness,  201 ;  replaced  by 
Velpeau,  208 ;  results  of  his  teachings, 
222  ;  characteristic  remark  of,  259, 
269. 

Duvernay,  Mile.,  153. 

Dwight,  Edmund,  7  note. 

Dwight,  Mrs.  Thomas,  23,  257. 

Dwight,  Miss  Veronica,  21. 

Dyer,  J.  Franklin,  M.D.,  251. 


21 


322 


INDEX. 


EARLE,  Henry,  Mr.,  182. 
Ecole  de  Me'decine,  81  note. 

Ecole  Pratique  d'Anatomie,  167. 

Edinburgh,  23,  58-61,67,68,191,  195,196, 
198,  213. 

Edwards,  Rev.  Justin,  D.D.,  125  note. 

Egypt,  102,  103. 

Egyptian  Physician,  saying  of,  282. 

Eliot,  Ephraim,  A.M.,  42  note. 

Ellen's  Tree,  60. 

Elliotson,  John,  M.D.,  181,  278  note. 

Ellis,  Rev.  George  E.,  D.D.,  145  note. 

Ellsler,  133. 

Embargo,  prospective,  204. 

Emerson,  Ralph  Waldo,  7. 

English  travellers  in  the  United  States, 
114. 

Ether,  first  operation  under  the  influence 
of,  229 ;  first  private  operation,  231 ; 
Dr.  Morton  the  discoverer,  231  note. 

Everett,  Edward,  6,  104  note,  175. 

Exchange  Coffee  House,  30  note. 

Extemporaneous  speaking,  200. 

Eye,  diseases  of,  at  the  Ophthalmic  Hos- 
pital, 180, 183. 


FAKEUIL  HALL,  17. 
Farre,  John  Richard,  M.D.,  188. 
Eellowes,  Nathaniel,  38. 
Eelton,  Cornelius  C,  tutor,  12. 
Eields,  James  T.,  256  note. 
Eisher,  John   Carlton,  LL.D.,  arrival  in 

Boston,  5  ;  challenges  the  local  scholars, 

6  and   note ;  reminiscences   of,  6   note ; 

mvthical  status,  7  note ;  removes  to  New 

York,  13. 
Eissure  of  hard  and  soft  palate,  195  note. 

See  Staphyloraphy. 
Flagg,  Josiah  F.,  M.D.,  140,  188. 
Flahault  de  la  Billarderie,  Comte  de,  148 

note. 
Flahault,  Mile.  Georgina  Gabrielle  de,  148 

note. 
Flicoteau,  Restaurant  de,  127,  128. 
Florence,  163,  164,  246. 
Follen,  Prof.  Charles,  13. 
Forest  Hills  Cemeterv,  245  and  note,  262, 

290. 
Forty-fifth  Regiment,  251. 
Fouquier,  Pierre-Eloi,  M.D.,  107. 
Fourth  of  July,  1832,  58. 
Foville,  A.,  M.D.,  72. 
Fowle,  Miss  Adeline,  63  note,  147  note. 
Fowle,  Miss  Charlotte,  63  note. 
Fowle,  John,  63  note. 
Franklin,  315. 
French  language,  190. 
French  Revolution,  104. 
French  surgerv  and  the  great  mortality 

therefrom,  .83,  84. 
Friends  and  associates  of  Dr.  "Warren  in 

Paris,  210. 
Fritz,  Monsieur,  74. 
Frog  Pond,  23. 
Frogs,  151. 


Frothingham,  Rev.  Nathaniel  L.,  D.D.,  7 

note. 
Fry,  Mrs.  Elizabeth,  179. 


GAINSBOROUGH,  242  note. 
Garden  of  Plants,  78. 

Gardiner,  Samuel  P.,  6  note. 

Gardner,  Joseph,  M.D.,  42  note. 

Gendrin,  Auguste-Nicolas,  M.D.,  107. 

Geneva,  162,  176,  243,  246. 

Genoa,  246. 

George  III.,  242  note. 

George  IV.,  185. 

Georges,  Mile.,  135. 

German  language,  190. 

Germany,  68. 

Giant's  Causeway,  195. 

Gibson,  William,  M.D.,  76. 

Gig  for  Dr.  John  C.  Warren,  201. 

Giuletta  e  Romeo,  152. 

Glasgow,  60  and  note,  67,  198. 

Goethe,  53. 

Goodwin,  William,  Mr.,  182. 

Gottingen,  13,  176. 

Gould,  Benjamin  Apthorp,  graduates  at 
Harvard  College  and  takes  charge  of 
the  Latin  Grammar  School,  3 ;  his  pe- 
culiar talents  and  rare  fitness  for  the 
office,  4  ;  his  relations  with  Mr.  Manners 
and  Dr.  Fisher,  5  ;  Dr.  Fisher's  chal- 
lenge, 6  ;  excites  a  remarkable  love  for 
classical  learning,  7 ;  edits  the  "  Prize 
Book,"  8 ;  tribute  from  Mr.  Hillard,  9 
note ;  annual  triumph  at  the  "  visita- 
tions," 10 ;  devotion  to  Latin  versifica- 
tion, 11  ;  acquirements  of  his  pupils  in 
this  respect,  12;  gradual  falling  away 
of  his  system,  13;  Dr.  Fisher  retires 
from  the  field,  13;  resigns  his  position, 
13;  appeal  to  Mason,  15;  his  popularity, 
tribute  from  his  former  pupils,  19  note ; 
relentless  drill  in  Latin  and  Greek,  30  ; 
disdain  for  the  vernacular,  31. 

Gould,  Benjamin  Apthorp,  Ph.D.,  19  note. 

Gove,  M.  J.,  144,  151. 

Graham,  Prof.  Robert,  M.D.,  67. 

Grampian  Hills,  59. 

Granary  Burying  Ground,  312,  315. 

Grant,  Isaac,  164,  181. 

Gray  &  Bowen,  68. 

Gray,  Horace,  40,  144. 

Gray's  Elegy,  6,  239. 

Great  Rebellion,  251. 

Greek  skulls,  71. 

Green,  Joseph  Henry,  Mr.,  181,  182, 183. 

Green,  Samuel  A.,  M.D.,  251. 

Greene,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Benjamin  D.,  51 
note. 

Greene,  Rev.  John  S.  C,  M.D.,  51  note; 
sails  with  Dr.  Warren  for  Charleston, 
52;  and  to  Liverpool,  52;  journey  into 
the  Highlands,  59  ;  leaves  for  London, 
61 ;  botanical  excursion  with  Professor 
Graham,  67  ;  arrival  in  Paris  with  Dr. 
Warren,  73 ;  in  the  same  pension  with 


INDEX. 


323 


Dr.  Warren,  79,  112;  at  the  Trois 
Freres,  128 ;  Christmas  dinner,  1832, 
151 ;  officiates  at  Dr.  Warren's  funeral, 
262. 

Greene,  Miss  Sarah,  51  note. 

Grey,  Lord,  198,  200. 

Grisi,  Giulia,  133,  152. 

Griswold,  Miss,  234,  235. 

Griswold,  Eev.  Rufus  W.,  234. 

Gross,  Samuel  D.,  M.D.,  301. 

Guerin,  Jules,  M.D.,  87  note. 

Guthrie,  George  James,  Mr.,  159  note,  180, 
184,  185. 

Guv  Mannering,  61. 

Guy's  Hospital,  58,  66,  69,  187. 

Guy's  Museum,  71,  182. 


HACHE,  Bernard,  M.D.,  202. 
Haddon  Hall,  61. 

Hale,  Enoch,  M.D.,  143. 

Hale,  William  C.,  65,  309. 

Hale'vy,  132,  153. 

Halford,  Sir  Henry,  M.D.,  242  note. 

Hamilton,  James,  M.D.,  204. 

Hammond,  Charles,  144. 

Hammond,  Samuel,  249. 

Hammond,  Mrs.  Samuel,  289,  290. 

Hammond,  Samuel,  Jr.,  289. 

Hancock,  Gov.  John,  315. 

Handwriting  of  Dr.  Warren,  157. 

Harcourt,  Lady  (see  Vernon-Harcourt). 

Harcourt,  Sir  William  (see  Vernon-Har- 
court). 

Harris,  Mr.,  74. 

Harvard  College,  11,  19,  29,  30  note,  147 
note,  226. 

Haussmann,  Baron,  74. 

Havana,  37,  39. 

Hawkins,  Caesar  Henry,  Mr.,  183. 

Hay  ward,  George,  M.D.,  243  note. 

Heidelberg,  13,  176. 

Hereau,  Edme-Joachim,  M.D.,  207. 

Heurteloup,  Charles  L.  S.,  Baron,  69,  70. 

Highlands,  Scottish,  59,  67,  198. 

Hillard,  George  S.,  7,  8  note,  9  note,  237 
note. 

Historic  Genealogical  Society,  256  note. 

Hodgkin,  Thomas,  M.D.,  72,  182,  187, 
188,  199,  212. 

Holland,  176. 

Holme,  Miss  Catherine,  63  note. 

Holmes,  Oliver  Wendell,  M.D.,  note  on 
Lisfranc,  92  ;  in  Paris  with  Dr.  Warren, 
112;  "La  Grisette,"  112  note ;  opinion 
of  Dr.  Warren,  119 ;  at  the  Trois  Freres, 
128,  130;  voyage  to  Europe  in  the 
"  Philadelphia,"  145  note  ;  tribute  to  Dr. 
Jackson,  178 ;  note  to  Dr.  Warren,  254 ; 
tribute  to  Dr.  Warren,  256. 

Holyhead,  188. 

Holyoke,  Edward  A.,  M.D.,  49  note. 

Hooper,  Robert  W.,  M.D.,  128,  145  note, 
162. 

Hopital  Beaujon,  105. 

Hopital  de  la  Charite,  78,  159,  208. 


Hopital  de  la  Pitie',  78, 92, 104, 166, 202, 203. 

Hopital  des  Enfans  Malades,  207. 

Hopital  Necker,  78,  99  note. 

Hopital  Saint-Louis,  79,  167. 

Hopital  des  Venenens,  106,  201,  202. 

Hospice  de  l'Ecole  de  Medecine,  100. 

Hotel  de  Hollande,  73. 

Hotel  des  Invalides,  85  note,  102,  103. 

Hotel  de  l'Odeon,  73,  78,  269. 

Hotel  Dieu,  78,  79,  81  note,  85,  86,  89,  95, 

107,  146  note,  158,  202,  206,  208. 
House  of  Commons,  181. 
Hubbard,  Samuel,  140. 
Hugo,  Victor-Marie,  135. 
Humane  Society,  264. 
"  Hunchback,  The,"  58. 
Hunt,  Ebenezer,  M.D.,  224  note. 
Hunter,  John,  M.D.,  180,  181. 
Hunterian  Museum,  64,  179,  180. 
Hydrocele,  84  note,  182. 


TDILIA,  154. 

-1-    Inches,  Herman  B.,  M.D.,  128. 

Interlaken,  162,  243. 

I  Puritani,  132. 

Irish  boy,  anecdote  of,  286. 

Irish  surgery,  195  note. 

Italian  language,  190. 

Italy,  161,  165,  246. 

Ivanhoff,  133. 

Ives,  Levi,  M.D.,  234. 

Ives,  Moses  P.,  231  note. 


JACKSON,  Andrew,  123  note,  156,  204- 
207. 

Jackson,  Charles  T.,  M.D.,  141,  243  note. 

Jackson,  Henry,  312. 

Jackson,  James,  M.D.,  letter  to  his  son, 
49  note  ;  views  regarding  Dr.  Warren's 
health,  245 ;  kindness  to  Dr.  Warren, 
249  note ;  esteem  for  each  other,  254, 
255  and  note ;  death  of,  268  note ;  eulogy 
of  Dr.  John  Warren,  291  note,  300. 

Jackson,  James,  Jr.,  M.D.,  devotion  to 
his  father,  49  note;  letter  concerning  the 
cholera  in  Paris,  54 ;  in  London,  56 ; 
travels  with  Dr.  Warren  in  Scotland, 
59 ;  call  on  Sir  Astley  Cooper,  63,  69 ; 
the  thymus  gland,  64  ;  tour  in  the  High- 
lands, 67 ;  head  examined  by  Deville, 
70;  attachment  of  Louis  for  him,  108 
and  note ;  with  Dr.  Warren  in  Paris, 
112 ;  leaves  Paris  for  home,  113  ;  at  the 
Trois  Freres,  128;  admiration  for  An- 
dral,  138  note  ;  death,  177  ;  tribute  from 
Dr.  Holmes,  178 ;  call  on  Sir  George 
Ballingall,  197  ;  Louis  dedicates  one  of 
his  works  to  him,  201. 

Jackson,  John  B.  S.,  M.D.,  240. 

Jager,  Michael,  185. 

January  1,  1833,  151. 

Jeffries,  John,  M.D.,  237  note. 

Jouffroy,  Theodore-Simon,  Professor,  79, 
114-117. 


324 


INDEX. 


IT"  EITH  and  Nairne,  Margaret,  Baroness 
^     of,  148  note. 
Kemble,  Mrs.  Frances  Anne,  183. 
Kennedy,  Evory,  M.D.,  192,  193. 
Key,  Charles  Aston,  Mr.,  58,  62,  66,  70, 

187,  188. 
King's  Theatre,  57. 
Kingston,  181,  238,  240. 
Kirk,  Rev.  Edward  N.,  D.D.,  127  note. 
Kirkland,  Rev.  John  Thornton,  President 

of  Harvard  College,  12,  16,  17  note. 
Knapsacks,  251. 
Kremlin,  152. 


LABLACHE,  133. 
La  Cachuca,  133. 

Lachapelle,  Jeanne-Louise,  205  and  note. 

Lafayette,  148, 149,  157,  307. 

Lagrange,  149. 

La  grippe,  155. 

"  La  Grisette,"  112. 

La  Juive,  132. 

Lake  District,  61,  71. 

Lalanne,  Mile.,  22. 

Lamarque,  Gen.  Maximilien,  55  note. 

Lamb,  William,  M.D.,  234. 

Lanark,  60. 

Langenbeck,  Bernhard,  M.D.,  256  note. 

Langstaff,  George,  Mr.,  187. 

Lardner,  Dionysius,  M.D.,  199. 

Larrey,  Dominique-Jean,  Baron,  86  note, 
102  note,  103. 

La  Sylphide,  134  and  note. 

La  Tarantule,  134. 

"  La  Tempete,"  134. 

"La  Tentation,"  153. 

Latin  Grammar  School,  at  the  time  of 
Mason  Warren's  entrance  in  1820,  3 ; 
social  position  of  its  pupils,  4 ;  progress 
under  Master  Gould's  administration, 
4  ;  scholastic  glory  of  its  pupils,  7  ;  the 
"Prize  Book,"  8;  prominence  of  the 
memory  in  its  system,  9  ;  Admiral  Sir 
Isaac  Coffin  an  old  pupil,  9 ;  semi-annual 
visitations,  10 ;  its  Latin  verses,  11 ; 
encroachment  on  Harvard  College,  11 ; 
pertness  and  audacity  of  its  graduates, 
12;  decline  of  Master  Gould's  methods, 
13;  retirement  of  Master  Gould,  13; 
visitation  in  1825, 16  ;  grandeur  of  the 
ceremonies  thereat,  17  ;  the  toasts,  17 
note ;  severity  of  the  tasks  required  dur- 
ing Mason  Warren's  attendance,  30 ; 
dreary  exactions  of  the  -.classics,  31 ; 
neglect  of  English  and  mathematics,  31; 
position  in  1703,  282  note. 

Lavalette,  Charles- Jean-Marie-Felix,  Mar- 
quis de,  63  note,  148  note. 

Lavalette,  La  Marquise  de,  63  note,  148 
note. 

Lavalette,  Samuel  Welles  de,  Comte,  148 
note. 

Lawrence,  William,  162. 

Lawrence,  William  B.,  162. 

Lawrence,  Sir  Thomas,  185. 


Lawrence,  Sir  William,  180,  182,  241,  268 

note. 
Leghorn,  164. 
Lemaitre,  Frede'ric,  136. 
Leroy,     Jean-Jacques-Joseph,   d'Etiolles, 

105. 
"Les  Moeurs  des  Americains,"  114. 
L'Estrange,  F.,  Mr.,  223  note. 
Les  Trois  Freres  Provencaux,   127-130, 

210. 
Lewes,  243. 
Leyden,  176,  177,  187. 
Ligier,  135. 
Lilly,  Robert,  18. 
Lincoln,  Gov.  Levi,  40  note. 
Lisfranc  de  Saint  Martin,  Jacques,  83,  91- 

95,  101,  104,  138,  159, 167,  184,  196, 203, 

207,  269,  307. 
Liston,  Robert,  Mr.,  59,  67,  71,  101,  187, 

196,  197,  307. 
Lithotomy,  70,  71,  308. 
Lithotrity,  97,  99,  308. 
Liverpool,  55,  62,  195,  210,  243,  245,  247, 

260. 
Liverpool  Blind  Asylum,  55. 
Liverpool  Royal  Infirmary,  55. 
Livingston,  Edward,  204. 
Loch  Katrine,  59. 
London,  Dr.  Warren's  arrival  in,  55,  56 ; 

return  to,  61,  62  ;  letters  from,  63,  67, 

69,  72,  168,  200,  243,  246,  247. 
London  Hospital,  183. 
London    medical    schools  and  hospitals, 

50. 
Lothrop,  Charlotte  E.,  285. 
Lothrop,  Rev.  Samuel  K.,  D.D.,  225. 
Lorenzo  de' Medici,  283. 
Louis,    Pierre-Charles-Alexandre,    M.D., 

78,  107,  108,  109  and  note,  110,  131,  138, 

161,  166,  167, 177,  190,201,204,206-208, 

269. 
Louis  Philippe,  54,  79,  151,  157,  175,  204- 

207. 
Loyau,  Monsieur,  73. 
Luzemburgh,  Henry,  M.D.,  98  note. 
Lying-in  Hospital,  264. 
Lying-in  Hospital,  Dublin,  193. 
Lyman,  Mr.  and  Mrs.   Charles,  58,  136, 

137,  143, 144,  146  note. 
Lyman,  Mr.,  250  note. 
Lyman,  Mrs.,  247. 
Lyman,  George,  7  note. 
Lyman,  Theodore,  7  note,  69,  142. 
Lyndhurst,  Lord,  56. 
Lyons,  163,  173,  202. 


MACARTNEY,  James,  M.D.,  193,  194. 
Maclagan,  David,  M.D.,  200. 
Macmurdo,  Gilbert  W.,  Mr.,  183. 
Magendie,  Francois,  M.D.,  139. 
Malgaigne,  Joseph-Francois,  99  and  note. 
Manchester,  56,  62,  195. 
Manchester  Royal  Infirmary,  195. 
Manec,  J.  P.,  M.D.,  142. 
Manners,  George,  H.  B.  M.  Consul,  5. 


INDEX. 


325 


Mardi  Gras,  153. 

Marino  Faliero,  132,  130. 

Marjolin,  Jean-Nicolas,  79,  104,  105,  127, 

138,  167. 
Mars,  Madame,  135. 
Marseilles,  163,  164,  165,  247  and  note 
Marshfield,  238,  240. 
Masked  Balls,  154,  155. 
Mason,  Jonathan,  1,  113,  313. 
Mason,  Susan  Powell,  1. 
Massachusetts  General  Hospital,  158,  229, 

231  and  note,  233,  250  and  note,  256,  264, 

265,  279. 
Massachusetts  Medical  Society,  254,  255 

and  note,  264. 
Massachusetts  Medical    Benevolent    So- 
ciety, 264. 
Massy,  Mile.,  151. 
Mastoid  Process,  203. 
Mather,  Rev.  Cotton,  34. 
Mauran,  Joseph,  M.D.,  255  note. 
Mayflower,  242  note. 
Mayo,  Herbert,  Mr.,  65. 
Mayor,  Matthias,  M.D.,  205. 
McLellan,  Henry  B.,  30  note. 
Medical  and   Surgical  Journal,  229  note, 

230. 
Medical  Board,  264. 
Medical  School  of  Harvard  College,  42, 46, 

264. 
Medical  School  of  Paris,  its  professors,  81 ; 

its  "  worthy  members,"  81  note. 
Medical  Society  of  the  State  of  New  York, 

265. 
Medical  students  in  Paris,  80,  81  and  note, 

269. 
Medicine  in  1828,  32 ;  in  the  early  days  of 

New  England,  33,  34. 
Melrose,  61. 

Middlesex  Hospital,  57,  65. 
Midwifery,  205  and  note,  306. 
Mifflin,  Benjamin  C,  233,  235. 
Milan,  162-164. 
Miniature  of  Dr.  Warren,  by  D'aubigny, 

169,  172  and  note. 
Mirabeau,  258. 
Mirecour,  135. 
Moll,  Professor,  199. 
Monastery  of  St.  Bernard,  162. 
Monica,  240. 
Mont  Cenis  Pass,  246. 
Montgomery,     William    F.,    M.D.,    192, 

193. 
Morel,  Madame,  73,  74,  78,  127  note. 
Morgan,  John,  Mr.,  180. 
Morse,  J.   E.,   M.D.,   128,  134  note,  149, 

151. 
Morton,   William   T.  G.,  M.D.,  229,  231 

note,  243  note. 
"  Morton's  Letheon,"  229. 
Motley,  Miss  Elizabeth,  231  note. 
Motley,  John  Lothrop,  7,  231  note. 
Mott,   Valentine,  M.D.,  85  note,  99  note, 

113,  158  note,  159,  208,  224. 
Mountford,  Rev.  William,  262. 
"  Mount  Warren,"  290. 


Munich,  226,  260. 
Munk,  William,  M.D.,  242  note. 
Museum  of  Dupuytren,  76,  91. 
Mussey,  Reuben  D.,  M.D.,  310. 


NAHANT,  250,  252,  259-261,  295. 
Naples,  163,  164. 

Napoleon,  100  note,  102  and  note,  152. 

Napoleon's  son,  53,  100  note. 

Nemours,  Due  de,  175. 

Newcastle,  60. 

New  England  Historic  Genealogical  So- 
ciety, 256  note. 

New  England  Quarterly  Journal  of  Medi- 
cine and  Surgery,  222. 

Newport,  39. 

New  York,  60,  62,  210. 

New  York  Medical  Society,  265. 

New  York  prisons,  180. 

Nicholson,  Rev.  William  R.,  D.D.,  262. 

Niles,   Nathaniel,   secretary   of  legation, 
142,  147. 

Nineteenth  Regiment,  251. 

Norwalk,  233-236,  285. 

Nourrit,  Adolphe,  153. 

Nullification,  156. 

Nye,  Captain  Ezra,  51. 


O'CONNELL,  58. 
O'Connor,  Barabbas,  M.D.,  194. 
Opera  Comique,  152,  154,  155. 
Opera,  La  Grande,  152. 
Ordronnaux,  John,  M.D.,  255  note. 
Orfila,    Matthieu  -  Joseph  -Bona venture, 

M.D.,  106. 
Orleans,  Due  d',  175. 
Osgood,  Daniel,  M.D.,  38. 
Otis,  Harrison  Gray,  7  note. 
Outram,   Benjamin   Fonseca,    M.D.,    81 

note. 
Owen,  Richard,  175,  241. 
Oxford,  55,  186,  189. 


PADUA,  163. 
Paige,  William,  238. 

Palais  Royal,  127,  144. 

Paradol,  Mile.,  135. 

Paris,  medical  schools  and  hospitals,  50 ; 
cholera  in,  54,  64,  67,  68 ;  outbreak  at 
funeral  of  General  Lamarque,  55  note  ; 
Dr.  Warren's  address  there,  73  ;  novelty 
of  its  life,  74,  75 ;  letters  from,  77-209 
passim;  Dr.  Warren's  occupations  there, 
77-79;  advantages  enjoyed  by  students, 
80,  81 ;  Sunday  in,  124-127  ;  splendors 
in  1832, 131 ;  privileges  of,  160, 161, 166 ; 
insurrection  in  1834,  173-175  ;  Dr.  War- 
ren's return  there,  201 ;  visit  of  Dr. 
Warren  in  1844,  226 ;  in  1854,  243 ;  in 
1855,  246,  247 ;  with  Dr.  Bowditch  in 
1833,  269. 

Park  Place,  313. 


INDEX. 


Park  Street,  311-316. 

Park  Street,  No.  2,  1,  249  and  note,  292, 

311,  316. 
Park  Street,  No.  6,  249,  292,  316. 
Park  Street  Church,  312,  313. 
Parker  House,  3. 
Parma,  163. 
Passport,  40  note. 
Pasta,  133. 

Patterson-Bonaparte,  Mme.,  147. 
Payne,  William  E.,  51  note. 
Pays-Latin,  76,  80. 
Peabody,  George,  57  note,  257. 
Peabody,  George,  of  Salem,  305. 
Peabody,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  George,  144. 
Peirson,  Abel  L.,  M.D.,   103,   144,   183, 

234. 
Pemberton  Square,  No.  29,  225. 
Pentland,  J.  B.,  71. 
"  Pepper  and  Mustard,"  61. 
Pereivall,  William,  M.D.,  141. 
Pe'rier,  Casimir,  54. 
Perkins,  Miss  Miriam,  51  note. 
Perkins,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thomas  H.,  144. 
Perkins,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  William  P.,  148. 
Perth,  59. 

Peruvian  heads,  71. 
Phi  Beta  Kappa  Society,  30  note,  264. 
Philadelphia,  cholera  at,  60,  62. 
Philanthropic  Society,  71. 
Phillips,  Jonathan,  145,  165,  178. 
Phrenological  Society,  160. 
Phrenological  Society  at  Edinburgh,  71 ; 

at  Paris,  203. 
Physicians  of  Paris,  envy  and  contention 

among,  82  and  note. 

Pierce, ,  M.D.,  113. 

Pisa,  246. 

Pitt,  242  note. 

Portraits  of  Dr.  Warren,  170. 

Portsmouth,  188. 

Post,  Wright,  M.D.,  113. 

Prince,  Rev.  Thomas,  282  note. 

Princesse  Adelaide,  ball  given  by,  155. 

Prisons,  Cobbett  on,  180. 

"  Prize  Book  of  the  Publick  Latin  School," 

8. 
Putnam,  Charles  G.,  M.D.,  258. 


QUAKERS,  Annual  Meeting  of,  179. 
Quartier-Latin,  73,  76. 
Quincy,  Miss  Eliza  Susan,  116  note. 
Quincy,  Miss  Eliza  S.  M.,  116  note. 
Quincy,  Josiah,  Mayor  of  Bqston  in  1825, 

17,  315. 
Quincy,  Josiah,  Jr.,  246  note. 
Quincy,  Miss  Sophia,  51  note. 


RAMMOHUN  ROY,  Rajah,  150. 
Randolph,  John,  99 
Rand,  Isaac,  M.D.,  42  note. 
Rebellion,  the  Great,  251. 
"  Recent  Progress  in  Surgery,"  254. 
Reform  Bill,  56  and  note,  68,  69. 


Reform  Club,  242. 

Reissasen,  F.  D  ,  M.D.,  143. 

Restaurant  Flicoteau,  127. 

Restaurant  des  Trois  Freres  Provencaux, 

128,  129. 
Revere  House,  255  note. 
Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,  114. 
Reynolds,  Edward,  M.D.,  181. 
Rhine,  the,  164,  176,  243. 
Rhinoplastie,  105  and  note,  202. 
Riban  on  Bandaging,  205. 
Richards,  John,  7  note. 
Ricberand,  Balthazar  Anthelmo,  Baron, 

79,  91,  138,  167. 
Richmond,  58. 
Richmond  Park,  250. 
Richter,  Friedrich,  185. 
Ricord,  Philippe,  106,  138,  202. 
Ristori,  135  note. 
Robert  le  Diable,  57. 
Robert  Macaire,  136. 
Robinson,  Rev.  T.  R.,  D.D.,  199. 
Rogers,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Henry  B.,  51  note. 
Roget,  Peter  Mark,  M.D.,  199. 
Rome,  163-165,  246. 
Roots,  William,  M.D.,  72,  181. 
Ross,  Sir  James  Clark,  199. 
Rostan,  Louis-Le'on,  M.D.,  138,  160. 
Rotterdam,  177. 
Rouen,  72,  73. 
Rouher,  Eugene,  148  note. 
Rouher,  Mile.  Marie  Sophie  Leonie,  148 

note. 
Rousseau,  276. 
Roux,  Philibert-Joseph,  62,78,  81  note,  83, 

84,  95,  96,  104,  127  note,  143,  146,  147, 

159,  185,  196,  197,  206-208,  269. 
Royal  College  of  Physicians,  242  note. 
Royal  Infirmary  at  Edinburgh,  197. 
Royal  London  Ophthalmic  Hospital,  183, 

188 
Royal  Society  of  London,  179,  181. 
Royal  Westminster  Ophthalmic  Hospital, 

184. 
Rubini,  133. 
Russia,  102. 
Russian  claims,  205. 
Ruysch,  Friedrich,  M.D.,  176 
Ryk,  Captain  of  the  "  Pallas,"  116  note. 


SABATIER-BLOT,  228. 
St.  Bartholomew's  Hospital,  181, 182, 
186,  187. 
St.  Bernard,  Monastery  of,  162. 
St.  Cloud,  99,  126. 
St.  George's  Hospital,  71,  183. 
St.  Patrick's  Hospital,  194. 
St.  Paul's,  56,  245  note,  262. 
St.  Thomas's  Hospital,  181,  182,  183. 
Salisbury,  188. 
Sale,  John,  311. 
Samson,  135. 

Sanson,  Louis  Joseph,  104,  206. 
Sargent,  Henry  W.,  18. 
Sargent,  Lucius  M.,  209. 


INDEX. 


327 


Saunders,  John  C,  M.D.,  183. 

Savage,  William,  37. 

School  of  Medicine,  76, 167. 

Scotch  surgery,  197. 

Scott,  David,  M.D.,  68. 

Scott,  John,  Mr.,  183,  184. 

Scott,  Sir  Walter,  10,  14,  53,  58,  60,  61. 

Scribe,  135. 

Sears,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  David,  164,  192. 

Sears,  Jonathan  Mason,  192. 

Senna  and  glauber  salts,  34. 

Serny,  246. 

Serres,    Antoine-Etienne-Renaud-Augus- 

tin,  M.D.,  106. 
Sewall,  Chief  Justice  Samuel,  315. 
Shaw,  Elizabeth,  242  note. 
Shaw,  Dr.  Norton,  242. 
Shaw,  Peter,  M.D.,  242  note. 
Shrewsbury,  188. 
Sichel,  Jules,  M.D  ,  106  and  note,  152, 167, 

206. 
Siena,  163. 

Simmons,  William  H.,  M.D.,  192. 
Simpson,  Sir  James  Y.,  Bart,  M.D.,  213 

and  note. 
Skulls,  70,  71. 
Smith,  Socrates,  17. 
Snow,  Theodore  W.,  18. 
Society  of  the  Cincinnati,  264,  299. 
Sorbonne,  79,  190. 
South  Carolina,  156. 
Southover  Church,  243. 

Spencer, ,  M.D.,  81  note. 

Splugen  Pass,  162. 

Spurzheim,  160. 

Staffa,  60. 

Stanley,    Edward,    Mr.,    181,    182,    186, 

187 
Staphyloraphy,  66,  196,  207,  222. 
State  Board  of  Medical  Examiners,  251. 
Steevens's  (Dr.  Richard)  Hospital,  195. 
Stelvio,  226. 

Stevens,  William,  M.D.,  68. 
Stirling,  59. 

Stone,  Rev.  John  S.,  D.D.,  225. 
Story,  Hon.  Joseph,  16,  17  note,  233. 
Strasburg,  176,  243. 
Stratford-on-Avon,  61. 
Sturgis,  Samuel,  311. 
Suffolk  District  Medical  Society,  256  note, 

257. 
Sullivan,  William,  7  note. 
Sumner,  Charles,  7,  8  note. 
Sunday  in  Boston,  51,  127  note ;   in  Lon- 
don, 126  note ;  in  Paris,  124,  126,  127. 
Surgeon,   qualities   needed    for    success, 

223. 
Surgeons   of  Paris,   83,  96,   97   note,    98 

note. 
Surgery   before  the  discovery   of   ether, 

223. 
"  Surgical  Observations,"  255,  256  note. 
Sussex,  Duke  of,  179. 
Swift,  Dean,  194. 
Switzerland,  161,  162,  226,  243. 
Syme,  James,  Mr.,  59,  67,  101,  197,  307. 


rTAGLIONI,  133, 134  note,  154. 

-■-    Tamburini,  133. 

Thacher,  James,  M.D.,  228  note,  252  note, 

300. 
Thackeray,  128. 
The'atre  des  Varie'te's,  154. 
Theatre  Franqais,  135. 
Thomson,  Allen,  M.D.,  198. 
Thomson,  John,  M.D.,  197-199,  200. 
Thomson,  William,  M.D.,  198. 
Thursday  Evening  Club,  264,  299. 
Thymus  gland,  57  note,  64,  141,  180. 
Ticknor  Building,  311. 
Tiedemann,  Friedrich,  M.D.,  176. 
Titicaca,  71. 

Toasts  in  former  days,  17. 
Travers,  Benjamin,  Mr.,  180,  188." 
Treat,  R.  E.,  M.D.,  192,  196. 
Trinity  College,  Dublin,  193. 
Trois  Freres  Provencaux,  127,  151,  210, 

255. 
Trollope,  Frances  Eleanor,  114. 
Trossachs,  60. 

Trousseau,  Armand,  M.D.,  268  note. 
Tuckerman,  Rev.  Joseph,  165. 
Turin,  246. 

Twenty-fourth  Regiment,  251. 
"  Two  Remarkable  Indian  Dwarfs,"  254 

note. 
Tyrrel,  Frederick,  Mr.,  69,  161,  180,  183, 

184,  188. 


T7-AN  TROMP,  116  note. 
'    Velpeau,  Alfred-Louis- Armand-Marie, 

78,  83,  84  note,  99  and  note,  104  and  note, 

142,  143, 159  note,  208  and  note,  268  note, 

269,  302,  303. 
Venice,  162,  163. 
Vernon-Harcourt,    Sir   William    George 

Granville,  Knt.,  231  note. 
Vernon-Harcourt,  Lady,  231  note. 
Verona,  163. 
Veterinary  Hospital,  63. 
Vevay,  246. 

Vincent,  John  P.,  Mr.,  182. 
Vivisection,  138,  139. 


W  A  GRAM,  85  note. 
Wales,  195. 

Warren,  Annie  C,  290. 

Warren,  Edward,  M.D.,  25  note,  139, 
143. 

Warren,  Eleanor,  245,  290. 

Warren,  Miss  Elizabeth,  147  note,  313. 

Warren,  Miss  Emily,  23  note,  74. 

Warren,  James  Sullivan,  attachment  to 
his  brother  Mason,  23,  24,  151  ;  death, 
25 ;  gratitude,  26  ;  reference  to.  40 ;  in 
Marseilles  and  Paris,  136-138,  144,  165 ; 
epithet  to  his  brother,  171;  at  the  re- 
moval of  General  Warren's  remains,  245 
note;  effect  of  his  death  on  Dr.  Warren, 
257. 

Warren,  John,  37,  38. 


328 


INDEX. 


Warren,  John,  Bishop  of  Bangor,  241. 

Warren,  John,  M.D.,  ancestor  of  Dr. 
Warren,  1 ;  resemblance  between  him 
and  Dr.  Warren,  22 ;  anecdote  of,  42 
note ;  operation  by,  224  note ;  mental 
temperament,  228  note ;  remains,  245 
note  ;  energy  and  devotion,  252  note  ; 
reference  to,  by  Dr.  Bowditch,  269  ;  old 
family  patient,  283  note  ;  eulogy  by  Dr. 
James  Johnson,  291  note ;  his  quali- 
ties inherited  by  Dr.  Mason  Warren, 
299-301;  Life  of,  by  Dr.  Buckmin- 
ster  Brown,  301 ;  one  of  his  daugh- 
ters marries  Dr.  John  B.  Brown,  301 
note. 

Warren,  John  C,  M.D.,  father  of  Mason 
Warren,  1 ;  family  and  social  position, 
2 ;  early  relations  with  Sir  Astley 
Cooper,  25  note  ;  enters  Latin  School,  31 
note;  medical  ideas,  32;  senna  in  his 
house,  34  ;  advocates  abstention  from 
food,  35;  advice  to  his  son,  35,  36 ;  youth- 
ful distaste  for  study,  41 ;  unbolted 
wheat  flour  his  discovery,  38  note  ;  suc- 
ceeds his  father  at  the  Harvard  Medical 
School,  42 ;  letter  to  his  son,  47  ;  friend- 
ship between  him  and  Dr.  Jackson,  49 ; 
little  book  of  advice,  52  note;  a  good 
sailor,  53  note;  reputation  abroad,  55, 
68 ;  at  Sir  Astley  Cooper's  in  1837,  57 
note ;  known  by  Mr.  Key,  58 ;  visit  to 
Hotel  Dieu  in  1837,  81  note ;  opinion  of 
the  medical  men  of  Paris,  82  note ;  re- 
mark of  Velpeau  to  him,  84  note ;  story 
of  Lang,  85  note;  extract  from  his  jour- 
nal about  Dupuytren,  87  note;  comment 
on  Dupuytren,  89  note ;  about  Lisf ranc, 
94 ;  kindness  from  Civiale,  98 ;  intimacy 
with  Dubois,  100  and  note,  101,  102; 
well  known  to  Velpeau,  104  note  ;  letter 
to  his  son,  118 ;  advice  about  diet  and 
other  matters,  120-123 ;  visits  President 
Jackson,  123  note ;  Sunday  in  his  house, 
125  and  note;  Sunday  in  London,  126 
note  ;  Sunday  in  Paris  in  1837,  127  note  ; 
characteristic  letters  to  his  son,  139, 158; 
remark  about  Velpeau,  159  note ;  letter 
to  his  son  in  Paris,  209  ;  letter  from  New 
York,  220 ;  opinion  of  surgery,  223 ; 
performs  the  first  operation  under  the 
influence  of  ether,  229  ;  views  as  to  the 
use  of  ether,  230;  as  to  its  real  discoverer, 
231  note ;  intimacy  with  Webster,  237 
and  note;  mention  of,  by  Sir  James 
Simpson,  243  note ;  objects  to  his  son's 
journey,  245 ;  present  at  the  removal  of 
General  Warren's  remains,  245  note; 
death,  247  ;  last  letter  to  his  son,  248  ; 
Dr.  Bowditch's  opinion  of,  269,  270,  283 
note ;  hereditary  patient,  283  note ;  de- 
scription of  Sir  Astley  Cooper,  296  note ; 
founder  of  the  Tbursday  Evening  Club, 
299 ;  rules  for  daily  conduct  in  Ap- 
pendix, 305;  his  home  at  No.  2  Park 
Street,  311  ;  first  occupation  thereof, 
313. 


Warren,  Mrs.  John  C,  tender  attachment 
to  her  son,  20 ;  scrap-book  and  trunk, 
21 ;  death,  21,  226  ;  resemblance  to  her 
son,  22  ;  portrait,  22  ;  message  from  Dr. 
Warren,  71;  visits  President  Jackson, 
123  note ;  mentioned  by  her  son,  145 ; 
messages  from  her  son,  165,  168,  181 ; 
place  of  burial,  245  note. 

Warren,  J.  Collins,  M.D.,  present  at  the 
accident  at  Norwalk,  233  ;  sails  for 
Europe  with  his  father  in  1854,  241; 
also  in  1855,  245  ;  at  school  at  Vevay, 
246 ;  letter  from  his  father,  256  note ; 
summoned  to  his  father's  death-bed, 
260  ;  visit  to  old  family  patient,  283 
note;  absence  from  "Mount  Warren," 
290. 

Warren,  Mrs.  J.  Mason,  miniature  of  Dr. 
Warren  by  Mile.  Lalanne,  now  in  her 
possession,  22  ;  miniature  by  D'aubigny, 
169  ;  marriage,  225  ;  at  Norwalk,  233- 
235  ;  sails  for  Europe  in  1854,  241 ; 
and  in  1855,  245;  "Mount  Warren," 
290. 

Warren,  Gen.  Joseph,  grand-uncle  of  Dr. 
Warren,  1 ;  marriage  of  his  daughter  to 
Gen.  Arnold  Welles,  147  note,  313 ;  men- 
tioned by  Webster,  149  ;  mentioned  by 
Sir  Astley  Cooper,  185  ;  removal  of  his 
remains,  245  and  note;  Mrs.  Doggett's 
reminiscences,  283  note ;  first  entomb- 
ment, 315. 

Warren,  Miss  Mary,  188,  249. 

Warren,  Pelham,  M.D.,  242  note. 

Warren,  Sir  Peter,  241. 

Warren,  Richard,  M.D.,  242  note. 

Warren,  Miss  Rosamond,  245,  250  note, 
289,  290. 

Warren  Building,  316. 

Warren  Museum  of  Natural  History, 
264. 

Warwick,  55. 

Waterhouse,  George  Robert,  241. 

Waterloo,  102. 

Webster,  Daniel,  house  on  Summer  St., 
18  ;  introduces  Dr.  Warren  to  Lafayette, 
149  ;  friendship  for  the  Warrens,  237  ; 
letter  to  Dr.  John  C.  Warren,  237  note  ; 
last  days,  237-240  ;  autopsy,  240  ;  pres- 
ent to  Dr.  Warren  from  his  family, 
283. 

Weiss,  John,  70,  209. 

Welles,  Gen.  Arnold,  147  note,  313. 

Welles,  John,  6  note. 

Welles,  Samuel,  63  note,  140,  147  and 
note. 

Welles,  Mrs.  Samuel,  147. 

Welles  de  Lavalette,  Samuel,  Comte,  148 
note. 

Wellington,  Duke  of,  56  note,  69,  186. 

Wells,  William,  18,  19,  31,  32. 

Westminster  Abbey,  178,  241. 

Westminster  Ophthalmic  Hospital,  184. 

White  Mountains,  165. 

Whitwell,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Samuel,  145  and 
note. 


INDEX. 


329 


Wiggin,  Benjamin,  63  note. 
Wiggin,  Mrs.  Charlotte,  63  note. 
Wiggin,  Timothy,  63  and  note,  71. 
William  IV.,  6y. 

Williams,  Rev.  Nathanael,  282  note. 
Williams,  Samuel,  63  note. 
Wine,  use  of,  123. 
Wingate,  Judge  Paine,  147  note. 
Winthrop,  Gov.  John,  F.  K.  S.,  33. 
Winthrop,  Robert  C,  6,  7,  8. 
Winthrop,  Thomas  Lindall,  6  note. 
Wistar,  Caspar,  M.D.,  113. 


Wraxall,  Sir  Nathaniel  W.,  242  note. 
Wornieley,  Ralph  R.,  Captain  R.  N,  17 

note. 
Wyman,  Morrill,  M.D.,  270,  271. 


YOUNG,  Rev.  Alexander,  145. 
York     fi8. 


York,  58 
y  URICH,  243. 


University  Press,  Cambridge:  John  Wilson  and  Son. 


He 


DUE  DATE 


J- A. 


.  ■ 


